
HI 



V 



man 



*/■ V* 



% 

-> 



V- 




















































oS u 



























c**- 






oo x 















* 



c*- «- 






V"V 



























'■' 













































^ '^ 













«fc 














y ^v 

























































M¥ IEELAND. 









BY 



Al M. SULLIVAN, 

MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT FOR LOUTH. 













NEW YORK: 

PETER F. COLLIER, PUBLISHER, 
38 Park Place. 

1878. 












| THE LIBRARY] 
lor CONGRESS J 

WASHlHGTOffl 



COPYRIGHT, 

1877. 
Bt Peter F. Collier. 



New York : J. J. Llttlo & Co., Printers, 
10 to 20 Astor Place. 



PREFATORY. 



"Within considerably less than half a century, changes, 
social and political, accomplishing a veritable revolution, 
have taken place in Ireland. In the following pages I 
have undertaken, not so much to picture them in all their 
phases, or to write a formal history of the period, as 
to supply, chiefly from personal observation, a series of 
sketches or narratives which may perhaps assist in the 
readier and more correct appreciation of visible results. 

I have, indeed, been mindful of the fact that this work 
would be published, and, if I may say it, be read, in 
England; yet I decided not to write it either "for" or 
"at" the English people, but to tell my story in my own 
way, and from my own point of view. I do not pretend 
to be dispassionate. I have borne — as will be seen in what 
follows — an active part in some of the stormiest scenes of 
Irish public life for at least a quarter of a century ; and 
I wish to hold my place as a man of decided views and 
strong convictions. I trust, however, it may be found 
that I have taken thought of the responsibilities which 
devolve upon one who attempts a contribution, no matter 
how humble, to the history of his time, not to the con- 
troversies of politics or polemics. 

I avow, perhaps, too bold an ambition in expressing the 

3 



4 PREFATORY. 

hope that these chapters may assist in promoting that 
better understanding and kindlier feeling between the New 
England and the New Ireland which patriot hearts on 
either shore must assuredly desire. No lighter considera- 
tion, no hope less high, has led me to undertake them. 

ALEXANDER M. SULLIVAN. 

London, September 25, 1877. 



NOTE TO THE NEW YORK EDITION. 



This edition has an indispensable something, especially 
prepared for it, and not found in any other, namely — a 
carefully prepared and Complete Table of Contents. We 
are sure the learned reader will not fail to appreciate such 
an addition to a volume in every other respect so admir- 
able. 

New Yoke, December, 1877. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I. — Looking Back 7 

II. — " The Schoolmaster Abroad " 15 

III.— O'CONNELL AND REPEAL 30 

IV. — The Ribbon Confederacy 49 

V. — Father Mathew 66 

VI.— "The Black Forty-Seven" 81 

VII. — "Young Ireland" 95 

VIII.—" Forty-Eight " 112 

IX. — After-Scenes 126 

X.— The Crimson Stain 140 

XI. — " LOCHABER NO MORE ! " 157 

XII. — The Encumbered Estates Act 173 

XIII.— The Tenant League , 191 

XIV.— "The Brass Band" 208 

XV.— The Suicide Banker 224 

XVI. — The Arbuthnot Abduction 241 

XVII. — The Phosnix Conspiracy 258 

XVIII.— Papal Ireland 270 

XIX.— The Fate of Glenveih 287 

XX. — The Fenian Movement 305 

XXI.— A Troubled Time 325 

XXII.— The Richmond Escape 338 

XXIII. — Insurrection ! 355 

XXIV.— The Scaffold and the Cell 373 

XXV.—" Delenda est Carthago 1 " 392 

5 



6 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XXVI.— Disestablishment 411 

XXVII.— Longford 429 

XXVIII.— "Home Rule" 444 

XXIX.— The Kerry Election 460 

XXX.— Ball ycohey 475 

XXXI. — The Disestablished Church 489 

XXXII. — Ireland at Westminster 499 

XXXIII.— Loss and Gain 510 



NEW IRELAND. 



CHAPTER I. 

LOOKING BACK. 

The years that reach from the fifth to the eighth decade 
of this century cover an eventful time in general history. 
They have brought great changes on every hand for nations 
and peoples. Even where no clash of arms has sounded, 
other forces have effected revolutions ; other causes have been 
at work to destroy the Old and set up the New. Ancient 
landmarks have been overthrown; long-treasured customs, 
habits, and traditions swept away ; and in instances not a 
few the whole face of society has been altered, for better or 
for worse. In Ireland this period has witnessed some start- 
ling transformations. It may, indeed, be said that the Old 
Ireland — the Ireland of forty years ago — can now be seen no 
more. 

Revisiting recently the scenes of my early life, I realized 
more vividly than ever the changes which thirty years had 
effected. I sailed once more over the blue waters of the bay 
on which I was, so to say, cradled ; climbed the hills and 
trod the rugged defiles of Glengariffe and Beara, by paths 
and passes learned in childhood and remembered still. The 
material scene in all its wild beauty and savage grandeur 
was unchanged ; but it was plain that a new order of things 
had arisen. New faces were around me — new manners, habits, 

7 



8 NEW IRELAND. 

and social usages. The Gaelic salutations were few ; it was 
in the English tongue that "A fine day, sir," took the place 
of "God save you " in the Irish. "My foot "was indeed 
" on my native heath," yet I felt in a sense a stranger. Not 
there, but in Boston and Milwaukee and San Francisco, could 
be found the survivors of the hardy fishermen and simple 
mountaineers among whom I grew to boyhood. Yet, natural 
regrets apart, I owned that all the change was not disaster. 
Much indeed had been lost, but much had been gained. 

Was all that I saw, all that I missed, a reflection or figure 
in miniature of what had taken place throughout the island ? 
Unquestionably this district and its people had long played 
a typical part, so to speak, in the vicissitudes of our national 
life. The extreme southwest of Ireland, the Atlantic angle 
formed by West Cork and Kerry, long has had a peculiar 
interest for the student of Irish history, social and political. 
Mr. Froude gives it unusual prominence as the scene of what 
he considers characteristic incidents in the seventeenth and 
eighteenth centuries. In the last formidable struggle of the 
Gaelic princes for native sovereignty, this region performed 
in the south very much the part which Donegal played in 
the north ; the three men under whom the final campaign 
of 1595-1599 was fought being Hugh O'Neill, Prince of 
Tyrone, Hugh O'Donnell, Prince of Tyrconnell, and Donal 
O'Sullivan, Chieftain of Beara. 

In that struggle Spain was the ally of the Irish Chiefs, 
and the proximity of the Carbery and Beara headlands to 
the Iberian peninsula — the facilities offered by their deep 
bays and ready harbors for the landing of expeditions, en- 
voys, arms, and subsidies — gave to the district that impor- 
tance which it retained down to 1796, when it was the scene 
of the attempted or rather intended French invasion under 
Hoche. Declared forfeit in 1607, on the conclusion of the 
campaign above referred to, confiscated again in 1641, and a 
third time in 1691, Beara at length passed totally from the 
O'Sullivans. The last notable member of the disinherited 



LOOKING BACK. 9 

family * entered the service of Franco with the Irish army 
under Sarsfield, on the capitulation of Limerick. 

The clansmen scowled on the new landlords, who, indeed, 
for very long after never ventured upon even a visit to the 
place. From 1700 to 1770, as Mr. Froude has very graphic- 
ally described, Bantry and the surrounding bays were the 
great outlets through which, in defiance of the utmost power 
and vigilance of the Government, shiploads of recruits for 
the Irish Brigade (called " wild geese " in the bills of lading) 
and cargoes of wool (at the time forbidden to be exported) 
were dispatched to France, Spain, and the Low Countries. 

In the smuggling or exportation of contraband fleeces, and 
importation of silk, brandy, and tobacco, the population 
pushed a lucrative and exciting trade down very nearly to 
the close of the last century, when it may be said to have 
totally disappeared. Henceforward they devoted themselves 
exclusively and energetically to a combination of fishing and 
petty agriculture ; their characters, manners, habits, and tra- 
ditions, their virtues and their vices, more or less impressed 
by the antecedent history which I have endeavored thus 
briefly to sketch. 

It is among this class, the rural population, that the most 
striking changes have been wrought all over Ireland within 
the present generation. The Irish peasant of forty years ago 
— his home, his habits, manners, dress, his wit and humor, 
his tender feeling, his angry passions, his inveterate preju- 
dices^ — all these have been portrayed with more or less of ex- 
aggeration a hundred times. Caricature has done its worst 
with the subject ; but justice has sometimes touched the theme. 
One of the changes most pleasing in our time is the fact that 
in England the clumsy "stage Irishman" of former days is 
no longer rapturously declared to be the very acme of truth- 
ful delineation. The Irish are keenly sensitive to ridicule or 

* His sister was wife of Colonel MacMahon, of the same service, di- 
rect ancestor of Marshal Patrick MacMahon, Duke of Magenta, Presi- 
dent of the French Republic. 
1* 



10 NEW IRELAND. 

derision ; and to see the national character travestied in mis- 
erable novel or brutal farce — the Irish peasant pictured as a 
compound of idiot and buffoon — for the merriment of the 
master race, was an exasperation more fruitful of hatred be- 
tween the peoples than the fiercest invective of those "agita- 
tors " whom it has been the fashion to credit with the exclu- 
sive manufacture of Irish sedition. 

Banim and Griffin, Mrs. Hall and Carleton, have left pic- 
tures of Irish life and character which on the whole cannot be 
surpassed for fidelity and effectiveness. The only class which 
none of them have photographed for us are the cottier fisher- 
men communities that thirty years ago crowded the coasts of 
Connaught and Munster. These have almost entirely van- 
ished. The Irish Fishery Commissioners year by year be- 
wail their disappearance ; the royal and mercantile navy miss 
the hardy and fearless seamen so easily picked up along these 
harbors, trained from childhood to combat wave and wind. 
Deep-sea fishing properly so called was hardly attempted, the 
boats and gear to be found around the western coast being 
quite inadequate for the purpose. Kinsale and Cape Clear 
boasted some fine "hookers" engaged in the ling and cod 
fishery ; but six-oared herring-seine boats were the craft most 
generally in use. The crews tilled small farms or rocky 
patches of potato-ground when the moonlight was too bright 
for fishing ; and on the potatoes thus raised, and a reserve of 
the fish for home use, they altogether depended for subsist- 
ence. Between Cape Clear and Dursey Island a little pilot- 
ing was sometimes done ; albeit very little knowledge of the 
compass or quadrant existed among the "pilots." One of 
them told me how nearly he missed a " splendid job " — five 
pounds' worth — because he could not "box the compass" 
for the captain of a West Indiaman homeward bound. 
" Not box the compass ! " exclaimed the captain. " You a 
pilot ! " 

"Oh, sir, I mean, sir, I cannot do it in English. You, 
see, sir, we all speak Irish in our village on shore, barrin' a 



LOOKING BACK. 11 

little English that me and the boys picks up, ye see, from 
being after the ships." 

"Well," said the captain, after a pause, "let me hear you 
do it in Irish." He, correctly enough, reflected that in al- 
most any language one could detect whether the words 
would follow with such similarity of sound as north, north- 
and-by-east, north-north-east, north-east-by-north, and so 
on. But old Jack Downing was just as sharp as the captain 
was keen. Often and often at Mrs. Crowley's public-house 
on shore he had heard sailors "box the compass;" and 
though he could not attempt the task, he knew how it 
sounded to the ear. 

"Yes, to be sure, sir ; I'll do it for you in Irish." And 
he forthwith began in homely Gaelic to recite, "My grand- 
father — my grandmother — my grandfather's grandmother — 
my grandmother's grandfather — my great-great-grandfather 
-my " 

" Stop, stop," shouted the captain, perfectly convinced. 
"I see, my poor fellow, I had wronged you : take charge 
of the ship." 

Few sights could be more picturesque than the ceremony 
by which, in our bay, the fishing-season was formally 
opened. Selecting an auspicious day, unusually calm and 
fine, the boats, from every creek and inlet for miles around, 
rendezvoused at a given point, and then, in solemn proces- 
sion, rowed out to sea, the leading boat carrying the priest 
of the district. Arrived at the distant fishing-ground, the 
clergyman vested himself, an altar was improvised on the 
stern-sheets, the attendant fleet drew around, and every head 
was bared and bowed while the mass was said. I have seen 
this "mass on the ocean" when not a breeze stirred, and the 
tinkle of the little bell or the murmur of the priest's voice 
was the only sound that reached the ear, the blue hills of 
Bantry faint on the horizon behind us, and nothing nearer 
beyond than the American shore ! 

Where are all these now ? The "mass on the ocean" is a 



12 NEW IRELAND. 

thing of the past, heard of and seen no more ; one of the old 
customs gone apparently forever. The fishermen, — the fine 
big-framed fellows, of tarry hands and storm-stained faces ? 
The workhouse or the grave holds all who are not dockside 
men on the Thames or the Mersey, on the Hudson or the 
Mississippi. The boats ? I saw nearly all that remains of 
them when I lasb visited the little cove that in my early days 
scarce sufficed to hold the fleet, — at low water, skeleton ribs 
protruding here and there from the sand, or shattered hulks 
helplessly moldering under the trees that drooped into the 
tide when at the full. 

Off the western coast of Ireland are several islands the in- 
habitants of which, previous to the present generation, never 
quitted, never cared to quit, their prison homes. The main- 
land — Ireland — was to them a vast continent, where as- 
tounding marvels were, it was said, to be seen. Tony 
Island ("Innis-Torragh" — Isle of Towers), off Donegal, re- 
tains at the present day, to a large degree, this isolation. It 
is still governed by a fisherman king, elected by the commu- 
nity of three or four hundred souls. Quite recently, I be- 
lieve, a police barrack, as well as a coast-guard station, has 
been placed there ; but the "king" is, after all, the author- 
ity most referred to. Strange to say, the present potentate 
of Torry is a Protestant, and the only professor of that creed 
(outside the police barrack and the coast-guard lodge) on 
the island. 

Technically, or theoretically, Torry belonged to some bar- 
ony on the neighboring mainland; but until a couple of 
years ago no one dreamed of asserting this legal fact by call- 
ing on the Torrymen to pay baronial cess for making roads 
in the country on the other side of "the sound." They 
made their own roads, they used none other, and for none 
other would they pay. So spake the "king." The cess col- 
lector proceeded to gather a flotilla for an invasion, with 
purpose as resolute as that of the Norman William assem- 
bling his galleys in the roadstead of St. Valery. Happily the 



LOOKING BACK. 13 

authorities, anxious to avoid a conflict with a community 
so peculiar and so largely recommended to kindly sympa- 
thies, devised some compromise which averted hostilities. 

Serious crime was, and I believe is, almost unknown among 
these islanders. In Torry the first illegitimate birth known 
within the memory of the oldest inhabitant occurred about 
twenty years ago, and caused much commotion and dismay. 
A Torry girl had been to farm-service on the mainland, and 
returned home to import the first moral stain of such a nature 
ever affixed on the character of her native island. The whole 
community met, under the presidency of the "king," and 
with one voice decreed banishment to Ireland for the hapless 
offender. When strong enough to bear removal, she and the 
infant were rowed across the sound. The neighbors gave her 
gifts and presents to help her in the future ; but she was to 
return to Torry no more. 

The present Bishop of Kerry, the Most Rev. Dr. Moriarty, 
told me he was making a visitation of his diocese, in the neigh- 
borhood of the Blasket Islands, in 1856. The opportunity 
was seized by a young islander, who was desirous of getting 
married, to cross to the mainland and obtain a dispensation 
from his lordship, rendered necessary by some circumstance 
in the case. He had never crossed before, and he was all 
wonderment at what he saw. The bishop thought it right 
to assure himself as to the knowledge on the islander's part 
of, at all events, the cardinal points of the Christian doc- 
trine. 

" How many gods are there, my good boy ?" his lordship 
asked, in Irish. 

"Well, great and holy priest," replied the islander, "in 
Blasketmore we have but one ; but 'tis very likely there may 
be more than that in this great big world here. " Father 
Casey was directed to give the Blasketmore man a few days' 
catechetical instruction, and then admit him to the matri- 
monial bond. 

This class — the Atlantic coast and island men, from Cape 



14 NEW IRELAND. 

Clear to Malin Head — suffered severely, were almost swept 
away, by the famine of 1847 ; a brave and hardy race, fa- 
vorably distinguished in many respects from the peasantry 
of the midland counties. Their isolation saved them from 
the conflicts that disorganized the agrarian system in other 
portions of the kingdom. Their hard lot, their humble 
life, offered little temptation to envy or cupidity. The 
ocean was their principal "farm," and on this no landlord 
could raise a rent. The war of class and race and creed, that 
betimes raged elsewhere in Ireland, never touched these com- 
munities. Every man was their neighbor, and every stranger 
was a friend. Even at the present day, though greatly weak- 
ened by the ordeal of the past thirty years, they present an 
interesting study, as perhaps the truest relics we now possess 
of the Celtic peasantry in the Ireland of old times. 

Looking back upon those scenes, recalling such memories, 
I am not Stoic enough to contemplate unmoved the picture 
presented to my view. Yet it is needful to remember that in 
these retrospects justice is not always done to the present ; a 
true value is rarely placed on the advance which, amidst 
combat and striving that often appear fruitless, and suffering 
and sacrifice that seem beyond compensation, is nevertheless 
being well established throughout the world, all along the 
line of civilization. 



CHAPTER II. 

"THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD." 

Fifty years ago the schoolmaster was not abroad in Ire- 
land. Indeed, in the previous century he had better not 
have been, if he wished to avoid conviction for felony under 
the 8th of Anne, cap. iii. sec. 16. In most of the rural 
parishes of Ireland not half a century ago, the man who 
could read a newspaper or write a letter was a distinguished 
individual, a useful and important functionary. He was the 
philosopher of the district. He wrote the letters for all the 
parish, and he read the replies for the neighbors who re- 
ceived them. After mass on Sunday, if haply the parish 
priest was rich enough to take a newspaper, the same public 
benefactor read from Father Tom's last-but-one weekly or 
bi-weekly broadsheet the news of what was going on in the 
world. If the weather was fine, seated on the green sodded 
fence, — on rainy days perched on the anvil in the neighbor- 
ing smithy, — he gave forth to the eager and wondering 
crowd the latest speech of O'Connell or Sheil, Peel or Stan- 
ley. Occasionally the parochial letter-writer and public 
reader was, as in Italy even at the present day, a sort of pro- 
fessional, charging a fee for his services. Some of these 
practitioners had set forms for letters of a certain classifica- 
tion, whence perhaps arose the idea of the " Complete Let- 
ter-Writer " as a publication. * 

* One of my colleagues in the Nation office showed me not long 
since a letter which came from a youthful correspondent in Clare, 
who wanted " Mr. Editor " to recommend to him " A Complete Letter- 
Writer on Love or Business ;" adding, by way of postscript, " N. B. 
Love preferred at present." 

15 



16 NEW IBELAND. 

In these performances lengthy words, or those strange and 
new in sound, were highly valued. A word of four syllables 
was supposed to be twice as powerful as one of two. A 
parochial letter- writer in Bearhaven who used to boast that 
he had "broken" — i.e., procured the dismissal of — three 
gaugers and removed two sub-inspectors was once retained 
to indite a complaint against a policeman. He read out to 
his awestruck clients as the finish of a sentence, "he being 
supereminently obnoxious to the people." "Do you hear 
that ? " said he, laying down the pen for a moment, and 
looking around with an air of pride and triumph : " super- 
eminently ! That one word alone is enough to take the 
jacket off him ! " 

That a few of these learned letter- writers survive here and 
there in Ireland I have had evidence from time to time in 
the course of my editorial experiences in Dublin. Out of 
quite a store of such curiosities I quote two communications 
sent for publication to one of my journals. The first deals 
with " Sunday-closing : " 

" Sra, — It is an indubitable fact, absolutely impervious to the rati- 
ocination of any syllogistic political economist, that the solicitude of 
British representatives for the auriferous progress of the excise divests 
them of every sentiment of philanthropy, of all consideration for the 
social misery, the moral derogation, and the domestic indigence of the 
infatuated frequenters of public-houses on Sundays. But to deviate 
from general principles to facts in particular, I think that a moiety of 
Irish publicans seem to have but little scrupulous regard to the dic- 
tates of conscience in deriving benefits from the ruination of their 
customers. That the publican's till is the receptacle of a large 
amount of the wealth of the country is clearly demonstrated by the 
fact of their wives being a vivid panorama of bon ton, and actually 
living to all appearances in perpetual anticipation of the various vicis- 
situdes of fashion. Indeed some alcoholic venders rather disingenu- 
ously carry on a magnetic system of lucrative appropriation through 
the medium of an exquisite barmaid, whose commercial smile of in- 
expressible blandiloquence is invariably calculated to stimulate the 
extravagant propensities of the young and industrious artisan. — Re- 
spectfully yours, Satubn." 



" THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD." 17 

Of another, from the same correspondent, devoted to the 
vexed question of " Connemara Proselytism," I quote the 
opening portion : 

" Cong, April 12, 1874. 
"Sir, — I sincerely trust I will not be considered an animated defi- 
nition of the mediocral abilities existing between the sublime and the 
ridiculous when I say that a Catholic Irishman whoso solicitude for 
the annibilation of the various considerations appertaining to sectarian 
animosities may have induced him to entertain a profound repugnance 
to all kinds of religious discussions, can have no earthly objection to 
class amongst the most ostensible of Ireland's grievances the odious 
prevalence in the isolated districts of an accumulation of stipendiary 
bible-readers, whose terrestrial ideas of the sanctimonious are ortho- 
doxly proved to be by no means diametrical to the dictates of a pecu- 
niary inspiration by their indefatigable efforts to propagate the grand 
tenet that the celestial felicity of a defunct Papist can only be achieved 
through the medium of sundry scriptural quotations, and the quondam 
system of immeasurable doses of infallible broth. Having fortuitously 
encountered one of these sublunary gentlemen, I, being unable to sur- 
mount the difficulties of an analytical excavation of the Scriptures, 
felt myself under the sternly imperative necessity of having recourse 
to a perfunctory subterfuge that precipitated his biblical interpolations 
into a chaotic state of chimerical amalgamation." 

These erudite contributions were, alas ! not given to the 
public eye ; but my colleague, who withheld them from print, 
was careful to hand them to me for a place in my portfolio 
of literary treasures. 

It was illiteracy, not ignorance in a degrading sense, that 
prevailed forty years ago in Ireland. The Irish peasant 
was naturally intelligent, was not deficient in knowledge of 
things necessary for his avocations, and above all he was, in 
a simple rustic way, courteous and polite. The great butt 
of taunt and sarcasm throughout the parish was an " ignora- 
mus," — one who was clumsy, ill-mannered, or stitpid.* 

* One of the changes most noticeable in the Irish peasant who has 
been to America and has returned home, is a disregard of and con- 
tempt for little courtesies that he has come to believe were servilities. 
In a land of liberty and republican equality he learned to reflect with 



18 NEW IRELAND. 

It was a calamity, the evil effects of which will long out- 
live even the best efforts to retrieve them, that at the period 
when in other countries, and especially in England and Scot- 
land, popular education was being developed and extended 
into a public system, in Ireland the legislature of the day 
was passing statute after statute to prohibit and punish 
any acceptable education whatsoever — university, intermedi- 
ate, or primary — for nine-tenths of the population. That is 
to say, the bulk of the population being Catholic, penal laws 
against Catholic schools — laws which made it felony for a 
Catholic to act as teacher, usher, or monitor, and civil death 
for a Catholic child to be taught by any such masters — were 
virtually a prohibition of education to the mass of the people. 
No useful purpose can be served by a dismal parade in these 
pages of the enactments that throughout nearly the whole of 
the last century effected that dreadful proscription. Statute 
after statute, penalty after penalty, was rained upon the 
people. 

" Still crouching 'neath the sheltering hedge, or stretched on moun- 
tain fern, 
The teacher and his pupils met, feloniously, to learn ! " 

The man who thoughtlessly, or unaware of the facts, 
points blame or scorn at the Irish for their "ignorance" 
little knows what he is about. In whatever else they may be 
amenable to reproach or censure, in the matter of education 
the Irish are not culprits but victims. 

shame how he touched his hat to a social superior at home. 'Twas a 
slavish custom, he thinks, and he throws it off, assuming instead what 
he means to be an assertive independence and equality, that too often 
is merely rudeness. No doubt in Ireland there was to be seen down- 
right and painful servility ; cringing, cowering slaves standing on the 
roadside with bared heads, in falling rain or sleet, while some squireen 
lashed them with his tongue. But between this and the genuine po- 
liteness of the Irish peasant of the better type the difference was wide 
and plain. 



" THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD." 19 

As early as 1783 the legislature commenced repealing the 
severest of these enactments against Catholic teaching in 
Ireland ; by 1830 they had nearly all been swept away ; and 
in the year following, the late Lord Derby, at that time Mr. 
Stanley, Irish Chief Secretary, proposed and established the 
present State-school system. By this a Government board 
of commissioners was established in Dublin to superintend 
and administer primary education throughout Ireland. No 
Government schools were set up or newly established ; but 
local patrons or managers of primary schools were invited 
to attach themselves to the Board and obtain a yearly grant 
of funds by conforming to the rules of the new system. To 
schools so placed under or in connection with their authority 
the commissioners granted school requisites at reduced price, 
and a contribution toward the teachers' salaries. On the 
other hand, such schools were subject to visitation and re- 
port on the part of Government inspectors, and any infringe- 
ment of the fundamental regulations forfeited the grant. 

There had not been wanting efforts enough previously to 
supply Ireland with public schools ; but there were semi- 
naries which the Catholic Irish could not be induced to 
enter. There were the Royal Free Schools in 1C08, Erasmus 
Smith's Schools in 1733, the London Hibernian Society 
Schools in 1811, besides quite a number of others. They all 
aimed more or less energetically at "weaning the Irish youth 
from Popery ; " and the Irish youth, still more energetically 
refusing to be so weaned, stopped away en masse. In the 
sad choice between loss of school education on the one hand 
and sacrifice of religious convictions on the other, Irish 
parents preferred the former for their children. It was not 
that they cared little for education ; they passionately wor- 
shiped it, — yearned for it, as the blind may long to see the 
wonders of the earth and skies which they hear of but can- 
not realize. They dared the penalties of the 7 Will. III. 
cap. iv. sec. 1, — which made it civil death for a Popish child 
to be sent to a school in foreign parts. Contraband scholars 



20 NEW IRELAND. 

often were the return cargoes of the smuggling craft that 
nightly ran silk and brandies into Irish creeks and bays in 
the early part of the last century. The Irish valued educa- 
tion much, but they loved religion more. 

Over the Irish national-school system established by Mr. 
Stanley in 1831 a fierce controversy has raged for some 
years. In one respect at all events, and indeed in many 
more respects than one, it has been a marvelous success, 
despite circumstances which have greatly marred and cir- 
cumscribed its operations. That is to say, although that 
scheme rather painfully balked the Irish of that which after 
such severe suffering and sacrifice they had some reason to 
expect, — namely, a system of public education as much in 
accordance with their religious convictions as the Scottish 
and English systems were with those of the Scotch and 
English peoples, — they nevertheless " attorned " to it ; and 
for the first time in Anglo-Irish annals, Irish children in 
thousands flocked into the Government schools. 

Mr. Stanley stands in history as the author of the scheme ; 
but, as a matter of fact, Lord Cloncurry it was who devised 
and suggested it, the Irish Secretary coming slowly to es- 
pouse the project. When he did undertake the question, 
however, he dealt with it firmly, and not only went as far 
toward a complete solution as he might dare at the moment, 
but even exceeded in boldness what others in his place would 
probably have proposed. He doubtless reflected that he was 
doing the best that was practicable at the time, and that in 
any event his scheme would be welcomed as a blessed boon 
compared with the pre-existing state of things in Ireland. 
On the one hand, all previous experiments aimed more or 
less directly at converting the Irish from Catholicism ; on 
the other hand, the Irish demanded a public-school system 
at least as denominational as the English or Scottish system. 
His proposal was to forbid proselytism, but to exclude all 
denominationalism : " combined literary and separate relig- 
ious instruction. " At a fixed or particular hour Scripture 



" THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD." 21 

lessons, catechism exercises, or other religious instruction 
might be given by the teacher, or any one else authorized by 
the parent so to do ; but throughout the rest of the day, 
during school-hours proper, nothing in the nature of relig- 
ious instruction was allowed. In the early years of the 
system (hardly in consonance with the strict letter of its 
rules) an attempt was made to go some way toward what 
would be called the teaching of "common Christianity." A 
scriptural "General Lesson" was framed by order of the 
commissioners, hung up in every school, and ordered to be 
read aloud by teacher and pupils every day. In the early 
manuals portions of Bible history were given ; and the Most 
Rev. Dr. Whately, Protestant archbishop of Dublin (one of 
the commissioners), compiled a book of religious instruction, 
called " Lessons on the Truths of Christianity," which the 
Board made a class-book in the schools. But soon this tick- 
lish experiment broke down ; the common religious teaching 
was abandoned, and the system was contracted more and 
more within its strictly non-religious basis. Secular schools 
were utterly repugnant to the "denominational" principles 
of the Catholics. Still, the system was so great a boon, 
compared with any previous plan or proposal, that the 
Catholic prelates, with but few exceptions,* decided that to 
reject it would be wrong, and might, moreover, seem like an 
obstruction of education on their part. The scheme, no 
doubt, was not theirs ; the State was acting on its own view, 
for State reasons and with State funds. They would accept 
that system under reserve, make the most of it, and hope 
eventually to have it developed into something nearer to 
their own convictions. 

Lord Derby's experiment had to bear the disadvantages 
incidental to compromises. Protestant society, and this in- 
cluded very nearly the whole of the landed proprietary, felt 

* The Most Rev. Dr. MacHale, Archbishop of Tuam, from the out- 
Bet resolutely refused to approve or accept the new system. 



22 NEW IRELAND. 

indignant. To give education to these Catholic millions, 
unless an education that would help to lead them from spir- 
itual slavery and superstition, could have but an evil ending, 
if it was not indeed a sin. No aid would they give, by local 
subscriptions, to such an apostasy from Bible principles. 
The Catholics, on the other hand, as we have seen, had 
their grievance. " The Government tell us," they said, 
"that this is what we must have; it is their choice, not 
ours. Well, let them pay for it." Between these two com- 
plaints the Irish national-education system has been left 
almost entirely dependent on the State grant for means of 
support ; local effort, local aid, being of hardly appreciable 
extent. The unfortunate school-teachers have been great 
sufferers by this state of things. On twenty-five or thirty 
pounds a year, a young woman of fair education, exemplary 
character, and respectable position was expected to clothe 
and support herself, and teach from day to day in a school 
to and from which, in the country districts, she had to walk 
three or four miles in summer's sun and winter's rain. At 
the present day — and the salaries have been greatly im- 
proved within the past ten years — the emoluments of Irish 
national school-teachers do not average fifty pounds a year. 

It was a gigantic, enterprise to establish and bring to its 
present dimensions and comparative efficiency the Irish na- 
tional-school organization. Those who are engaged in 
school-board work in England find how arduous is the task 
of constructing a new system even in wealthy cities and 
towns, where schools of some sort already exist. But all 
over three-fourths of Ireland everything had to be under- 
taken ab initio and under the most formidable disadvantages 
and discouragements. Where were school-houses to be 
found ? Where were teachers to be obtained ? Above all, 
where were the funds to come from ? The Government 
grant, slender enough at best, was to be given to "aid" an 
"established" school. How were the schools to be estab- 
lished ? 



" THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD." 23 

Happily one now sees when traveling through Ireland 
many neat and tidy little school-houses, with slated roofs 
and boarded floors. But the first "national schools" were 
wof ul make-shifts, — thatched cabins with earthen floors, 
miserable and cheerless in winter, deathly in their effects on 
the health of teacher and pupil. To set up even one of 
these in a considerable district was at first a great achieve- 
ment. I have myself seen children of from six to sixteen 
years of age trudging (barefooted, of course) over bog and 
moor, crag and patlnvay, to such a school distant four or 
five miles — in some instances seven miles — from their homes ! 

The Education Commissioners, by more adequate parlia- 
mentary grants placed at their disposal, have been able to do 
a great deal in helping the erection of better school-houses ; 
but the improvement now noticeable is almost entirely due 
to the toilsome and unwearied exertions of the clergy, who 
are, as a general rule, the local patrons or managers under 
the Board. The instances are also increasing every year 
where the landed proprietor of the district has largely or 
wholly at his own cost erected suitable national school-houses 
on the estate. Perhaps the most notable improvement, how- 
ever, is that for which the Irish schools are indebted to the 
generosity of one man, — Mr. Vere Foster. In one of those 
numerous pedestrian tours through Ireland which Mr. Foster 
has for a quarter of a century been accustomed to take, on 
some benevolent or philanthropic purpose bent, he was struck 
with the fact which I have above alluded to, — the wretched 
discomfort and unhealthiness of the damp earthen floor in 
schools frequented by barefooted children. Keeping for the 
while his purpose to himself, he quietly noted down the di- 
mensions of each such school throughout the country, and, 
when his tour was completed, had a boarded floor supplied 
at his own cost to every one of them.* 

* The author of this generous act is one of the most remarkable men 
in Ireland. He may be encountered betimes, simply attired in Irish 



24 JfBW IRELAND. 

During the first dozen years of its existence, the Irish 
national-school system, although supposed to be, as we have 
seen, quite undenominational, was, in practice, denomina- 
tional. In few of the schools was the attendance "mixed.'' 
In Ulster, Protestant managers established schools in which 
a Catholic child was never seen; in the other provinces, 
Catholic managers (generally the parish priests) established 
schools in which a Protestant pupil never entered. In fact 
in numberless parishes there were no Protestant youth to 
enter or to abstain. It soon became too patent an absurdity 
that out of respect for the conscience of the theoretic or 
imaginary but non-existent child of a different persuasion— 
this " legal fiction " for which the parish had never a realiza- 
tion—the whole school should be conducted from year's end to 
year's end as if he was in the flesh and verily present. After 
a while, teachers and managers disregarded the theory ; and 
for a long time, despite the letter of the Board rules, wher- 
ever the schools were exclusively Protestant or exclusively 
Catholic in attendance, they were actually conducted as de- 
nominational schools. In Ulster, the Bible was freely read at 
all hours ; in the south, the Catholic catechism mingled in the 
whole day's exercises. It is not unlikely, indeed, that the 
commissioners rather winked at all this, and thought it wise 
to let the system be accepted, — to let it take root and grow 
anyhow. Once it was firmly established they could tighten 
up both rule and practice. 

I witnessed on one occasion, some years after the tighten- 
ing-up process had gone into play, a curious illustration of 
the working of the system. 

In King's Inn Street, Dublin, in the midst of a very poor 
and wretched Catholic population, some of the zealous prose- 
lytizing Protestant societies established a school "under the 

home-spun gray, with knapsack strapped on his back, and a stout black- 
thorn in his hand, walking by easy stages through some remote county, 
silently devising or effecting some scheme worthy of " Howard the 
Good." 



" THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD." 25 

Board," and duly received a Board grant. They kept within 
the Board rules as to the hours for religious instruction, yet 
were able to bring the ragged little Papists under scriptural 
class teaching all the same ; for a breakfast or lunch was 
given along with it. In fact, when I visited the school, 
the soup-boilers were down-stairs in the basement in full 
performance. 

The Catholic clergy soon heard of these operations carried 
on under the a3gis of the national Board system. They re- 
monstrated, but the Board could do nothing : its rules were 
not violated. It was, however, pointed out to the reverend 
complainants that they too could set up a Board school in the 
district ; which indeed they did, by taking the opposite house 
in the street, so that within a perch of one another there were 
two "national schools" arrayed in denominational duel. I 
heard of all this, and decided to see it for myself. When I 
visited "No. 2," or the Catholic school, which was taught 
by nuns, it was the rule hour for "religious instruction." I 
was astonished to see a beautiful little oratory at the end of 
the room, wreathed with flowers, and lighted up with tapers, 
while the children were singing in chorus a Catholic hymn. 
"How on earth do the Board allow you to have this ora- 
tory ?" I asked of* the sister in charge. "It is forbidden to 
have any religious picture, symbol, or sign, and the practice 
of silently bowing the head in mental prayer, at the stroke 
of the clock, has been declared against the rules : yet here 
you have outstripped all these." 

" Oh, not at all," replied the nun ; "just wait a while till 
the rule hour for resumption of school strikes, and you shall 
see." 

Sure enough, at stroke of the clock a transformation that 
rather surprised me took place. Folding doors that I had 
not noticed were at once closed in on the oratory ; a top fell 
over it, steps were drawn out in front, and, lo ! nothing ap- 
peared but a teacher's rostrum ! 

I hardly knew what to say, — what feelings were upper- 
2 



26 NEW IRELAND. 

most at the first moment ; but a very little reflection satisfied 
me that it could hardly have a good moral effect on children I 
to see the "secular" and "religious" lines drawn so sharply 
as that. 

I crossed the street to the Protestant school and entered 1 
into conversation with the teacher there. He grievously 
complained of the opposition establishment over the way, 
and spoke feelingly of the reduction which it had effected 
in his daily attendance. 

"The worst of it is, sir, we discovered that the young 
rascals used to come here to us in the morning and take our 
breakfast, and then make off across the street to the nuns." 

"Did you then strike them off the roll ?" 

"We daren't, but we tried to identify the individual pu- 
pils who so acted, and stopped their breakfast on them. 
However, we have come upon a plan now which baffles them 
completely." 

"What is that?" 

"Why, sir, we don't give the breakfast till school and 
Scripture class are over, at three o'clock I " 

For many years the Protestant clergy and laity held entirely 
aloof from the national schools. They would not countenance 
a system of popular education that was .not religious and 
scriptural. At all events a school without an open Bible — 
one in which the Bible would be padlocked and unpadlocked 
at certain hours — they would not have. If with some of 
them the objection partook of regret that opportunity for 
effecting conversions among the Catholics would be so far 
given up, there can be no question but that on the other 
hand with the bulk of the Protestant clergy and laity it pro- 
ceeded from an upright conscientious principle, and had ref- 
erence solely or mainly to consideration for the youth of their 
own communion. Many overtures were made, many nego- 
tiations tried, for a long time in vain, to secure their adhe- 
sion. One great stumbling-block for them was a rule which 
forbade the teacher to allow a pupil while at school to be 



" THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD." 27 

present at religious instruction different from the creed in 
which he was entered on the school register, unless the pupil 
was so present with his parents' ascertained permission. The 
Protestant clergyman, otherwise disposed to work with the 
national Board, stopped invincibly at this point. "My or- 
dination vows," he said, "and my own sense of duty forbid 
me to take any one by the shoulder and remove him, lest he 
should hear me preach the gospel. I am quite ready to say 
that I will not compel any pupil in my school, if under the 
Board, to be so present, let him absent himself if he will ; 
but if he be present I shall certainly not turn him off." 

The Education Board on its part pleaded that it was upon 
the faith that their children ran no risk or chance whatever 
of being present at religious teachings not their own, within 
the school, that the masses of the Irish people had been in- 
duced to come into the system. From 1844 to 1847 this 
controversy went on, the correspondence on behalf of the 
Protestant clergy being most ably conducted by the late 
Archdeacon Stopford, of Meath, and in September, 1847, the 
following compromise was eventually arranged between him 
and the Board : 

Thenceforth no teacher need prevent a child from being 
present at religious instruction contrary to his registered 
creed ; but whenever a pupil was for the first time so present, 
the teacher was to send to the parent a filled-up printed ticket 
notifying that fact. On this new rule — popularly known 
as "the Stopford Kule" — a large section of the episcopalian 
Protestant clergy and nearly all of the Presbyterians came in ; 
but at exactly the same point, and on the same ground, there 
burst forth that complaint of broken faith and demand for 
denominational capitation grants which the Catholics have 
ever since been pressing so vehemently. 

Such was in brief the early history, such the rise and prog- 
ress, of the national education system in Ireland. 

It was not till ten or twelve years after the actual date of 
its establishment that even the first faint signs of its work 



28 NEW IRELAND. 

became noticeable outside the school-door threshold. But 
those who moved among the people, or narrowly watched the 
phases of their life, began as early as 1845 to note by a thou- 
sand symptoms that "the schoolmaster was abroad." From 
1845 to the present day the national schools have been turn- 
ing out a yearly crop of thousands, yea, tens of thousands, of 
youth. The average standard of proficiency attained, espec- 
ially in rural districts, is even still very low, owing to the 
short and broken periods for which children are allowed to 
attend school rather than help to earn for home by work in 
the fields. But, slight as the actual achievement may be in 
a strictly educational point of view, socially and politically 
considered, nothing short of a revolution has been effected. 
There is now scarcely a farm-house or working-man's home 
in all the land in which the boy or girl of fifteen, or the 
young man or woman of twenty-five, cannot read the news- 
paper for "the old people," and transact their correspondence. 
Our amusing friend the parish letter- writer has almost disap- 
peared. His occupation is gone. For public news the peasant 
no longer relies on the Sunday gossip after mass. For po- 
litical views he is no longer absolutely dependent on the 
advice and guidance of Father Tom. He may never find 
counselor more devoted and faithful ; the political course he 
may now follow may be more rash or more profitable, more 
wise or more wrong ; but for good or ill it will be his own. 
He will still, indeed, trust largely to those whom he judges 
worthy of his confidence, arid largely follow their lead ; but 
not in the same way as of yore. 

Not all at once will one perceive how many and how vast 
are the changes which flow from these altered circumstances. 
It is, I repeat, nothing less than a revolution that the humble 
little thatch-roofed national school — or, let me more accu- 
rately say, the national school supplemented by a cheap popu- 
lar literature — has effected in Ireland. Political leadership, 
in the sense in which it prevailed in our fathers' time, is gone 
forever, — would be simply impossible now. And with the 



" THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD." 29 

old-time leadership of one magnificent genius, or one well- 
trusted class, there have also disappeared many of the old- 
time modes and habits of political life and action. It is 
utterly astonishing how few persons seem to realize or to have 
noticed these changes so palpably though so silently wrought 
under their very eyes during the last thirty years. Every 
day we hear some one whose memory dwells ardently on the 
period of Eeform or Emancipation or Kepeal, telling us what 
should be done now, and how done, because it was done, 
and so done, then. As well might he tell us of the times of 
Brian Boru. Be it for better or be it for worse, a new Ire- 
land has arisen since then. 



CHAPTEE III. 

O'CONNELL AND REPEAL. 

The prominent figure, the leading character, in Irish life 
five-and-thirty years ago was Daniel O'Connell. As we look 
back upon that period we see his great form flung upon the 
Irish sky like that of some Titan towering above the race of 
men. 

In Ireland he is fondly styled "the Liberator ;" in Eng- 
land known as the "Irish Agitator." In Home his memory 
is held in benediction as that of a "champion of the 
Church." Hardly yet, long as he has lain in the national 
mausoleum at Glasnevin, have prejudice and passion ceased 
to struggle over his bier and allowed him to be dispassion- 
ately contemplated as an historical character. 

No man can be named who at any time in Irish affairs 
attained to such popularity as that which was O'Connell's in 
1844, when he may be said to have reached the zenith of his 
power. Like other master characters in history, he carved 
out his own career, and attained to eminence by virtue of 
his own strong will, by the force of commanding genius. 
He inherited no lordly title ; he succeeded to no great terri- 
torial influence. He belonged to an ancient and honored 
Celtic family in West Kerry, and was expectant heir to an 
uncle — " Old Hunting-Cap " — who would have left him 
considerable means had the future tribune not married for 
love and displeased the wealthy old squire. He entered the 
Irish bar. It is a singular fact that the only men who within 
the last hundred years became really great popular leaders 
in Ireland were barristers, who first won popular confidence 

30 



O'CONNELL AND REPEAL. 31 

and popular influence by their forensic abilities ; namely, 
Daniel O'Connell and Isaac Butt. The bar, in any country 
possessing such an institution, must always to a great extent 
contribute "leaders of public opinion." From its ranks 
are most likely to come, unless abnormal influences prevail, 
the men most able to plead and press a public cause. In 
Ireland, however, there have been greater and exceptional 
reasons to bring the advocate into the forefront as the politi- 
cal leader. The man who could "run a coach-and-four 
through any act of Parliament," as O'Connell boasted he 
could do, who could put down the Attorney-General and 
baffle the Crown, who was ready to take the brief of the 
weak against the strong, to compel justice for the poor, was 
inevitably marked out for popularity among a people like the 
Irish. His skill, his learning, his eloquence, his ingenuity, 
were all tested, exhibited, and proved before their eyes. 
Moreover, in no generation has Ireland been without the 
exciting spectacle of State trials or political prosecutions. 
The accused stepped from the dock to the scaffold, from the 
cell to the convict-ship, bequeathing names and memories 
destined to immortality in rustic ballad or fireside story, and 
the advocate who defended them, especially if supposed to 
sympathize with them, became a hero. 

When one speaks of O'Connell's popularity, however, a 
qualification or distinction needs to be noted. It was almost 
exclusively confined to one section of the nation, though no 
doubt, counting heads, that was the overwhelming prepon- 
derance of the nation. Not only was O'Connell wwpopular 
with the Irish Protestants, he was absolutely a terror to 
them. Many other Irish national leaders before his time, 
in his time, and since, might be named whose following was 
somewhat distributed through the various sections, creeds, 
and classes of Irishmen ; notably Henry Grattan, John Mar- 
tin, and Isaac Butt. But to the Protestants of his day O'Con- 
nell seemed a combination of Guy Fawkes, the Pretender, 
and the Pope of Rome. While his trial was proceeding, or 



32 NEW IRELAND. 

rather concluding, in 1844, an old gentleman named Ffol- 
liott — a good type of the stanch old Tory gentleman of that 
day in Ireland — lay dying in a southern county. 

"Do you rest all your hopes on the merits of your Saviour, 
Mr. Ff olliott ? " said the rector, who stood by his bedside. 

"Yes, I do, all," murmured the dying man. 

" And are you directing all your thoughts at this moment 
to the heavenly Jerusalem, Mr. Ff olliott ? " 

" And nowhere else." 

"Above all, I trust you forgive every one, and feel at 
peace with all men ? " 

" With all mankind," responded the genial old fox-hun- 
ter. 

There was a solemn pause. 

"Mr. Halliday," he half whispered, "is the Dublin mail 
in yet ? " 

" Yes, sir, about an hour ago." 

The dying man roused himself instantly, and with sharp 
eagerness asked, "How about the trials? Is O'Connell 
convicted ? " 

"Found guilty, sir." 

"Thanks be to God ! " was the last pious ejaculation of 
the worthy old squire. 

All this love and confidence, all this fear and hatred, had 
been earned by O'Connell in his " Emancipation " career, 
which extended from 1810, when he may be said to have 
entered public life, to 1829, when he vanquished utterly and 
completely the hostile power of the Peel- Wellington Gov- 
ernment. From 1830 to 1840 he was engaged in the scarcely 
less important struggles which ensued on the Tithe question 
and Municipal Keform, — corollaries, so to speak, of Catho- 
lic Emancipation. 

On the subject, of Kepeal O'Conn ell's first public speech 
was delivered; and this question, not Catholic Emancipa- 
tion, attracted his earliest sympathies. To many ears the 
statement will sound strange and startling, but it is historical 



O'CONNELL AND REPEAL. 33 

fact, that at that time the ultra-Protestant and Tory party 
in Ireland were the great agitators for Repeal of the Union. 
The anti-Union resolutions of the Orange lodges would fill 
pages of print. The Protestant bankers and merchants of 
Dublin vied with the Protestant nobility and gentry of the 
provinces in denouncing the Union. Never for a moment 
did its effectuation cause an altered view of the transaction. 
As there was no disguise made of the heavy sums paid for 
the votes requisite to secure a ministerial majority, the peo- 
ple viewed the transaction very much as New York citizens 
regarded a " presentment " of Tweed's grand jury, thirteen 
of whom he kept in his pay — a bold and successful fraud in 
the guise of law. The Catholics at this time could hardly 
be said to be participants in general political affairs ; still, 
although their bishops * were more than suspected of Union- 
ist sentiments, the feelings of the general body were enthu- 
siastically with their Protestant fellow-countrymen. The 
movement for Eepeal of the Union was really begun in 1810 
by a requisition from the Grand Jurors of Dublin to the 
High Sheriffs, Sir Edward Stanley and Sir James Riddall, 
calling upon them to convene a public meeting of " the 
freemen and freeholders of Dublin " for the purpose of peti- 
tioning Parliament to repeal the hateful and injurious act. 
At this meeting, held on the 18th of September, 1810, the 
ultra- Protestant and Tory merchants and gentry of Dublin 
launched the movement which O'Connell, thirty years after, 
made his own. 

How then, it may be asked, did the question happen to 
lose its strongly Protestant character ? How did young 
O'Connell and his co-religionists come to devote themselves 
first to Emancipation rather than Repeal ? 

O'Connell often subsequently expressed his regret that he 
and they had not, in 1810, thrown themselves to the side of 

* Pitt had promised them that Catholic Emancipation should be one 
of the first acts passed in the Imperial Parliament ; but of course the 
promise was not fulfilled. 
2* 



34 NEW IRELAND. 

the Protestant Repealers, and looked for Emancipation to 
an Irish rather than to an imperial legislature. " Restore 
the penal laws, if you will ; but repeal the Union," was his 
Tenement exclamation in after years. But in 1810 the Irish 
Catholics had abundant offers of assistance for Emancipation 
from a powerful party in the imperial Parliament ; while in 
that assembly no party would help either Protestant or Cath- 
olic Irishmen with Repeal. The consideration was strongly 
attractive to strive first for what was nearest at hand or was 
most practicable of attainment. The English Liberal party 
persuaded the Irish Catholic leaders to go for Emancipation, 
which was " already half carried," and in which they could 
aid them. " First gain equality as citizens," said persuasive 
counselors, " and then, if you will, use your powers as free 
men to co-operate with your Protestant fellow-countrymen 
in their efforts for Repeal." In this view O'Connell acqui- 
esced. He little thought that amidst the fierce fires of the 
struggle for religious equality the Protestant movement for 
Repeal was to disappear ! When Emancipation was won, 
when the Tithe grievance was moderated, and the Protest- 
ant rector no more went forth with armed men to seize 
"every tenth sheaf " from the Catholic peasants' haggard, 
when the municipal corporations of the country were, like 
Parliament itself, opened to Catholics, and citizenship was 
at length secured, O'Connell felt that the time had come for 
a still greater question than any of these, — one upon which 
he fondly, but erroneously, imagined he could unite Cath- 
olic and Protestant Irishmen. He looked around for the 
Repeal Protestants ; but they were gone. 

There was no avoiding the determination which he then 
adopted — to take into his own hands the banner which the 
Protestant chiefs had flung down. Although a study of all 
the circumstances, by the light of subsequent experience, 
shows us that the leader who won Catholic Emancipation 
could not have been the man to carry Repeal, no other course 
was honorably open to O'Connell and the Irish Catholics. 



O'CONNELL AND REPEAL. 35 

Had they adopted as their motto, "Rest and be thankful," 
having won religious rights, had they stopped there, the 
Protestants would be able forever to taunt them with having 
belied the solemn declarations of 1810, which pledged them 
to consecrate their first efforts as free men to the non-sec- 
tarian question of a national legislature. "These Catholics," 
it would be said, "think only of their Church. Having 
freed their Church, they are satisfied, and leave their coun- 
try to shift for itself." 

When he launched his Eepeal agitation, O'Connell strove 
hard to propitiate Irish Protestantism ; but he strove in 
vain. He saw but too well that in the new struggle there 
must be a blending of creeds ; but the movement must be 
national not sectional, or it would fail. But it became plain 
that the very circumstances that gave to him his unrivaled 
power with the masses fatally disqualified him here. The 
time was all too near a struggle so desperate and bitter as 
that in which he and his despised " Popish bog-trotters " had 
vanquished the haughty Protestant aristocracy of the island. 
When they saw the man who had stormed and carried the 
strongholds of exclusive Protestant power coming forward 
at last to claim the restoration of the Irish parliament 
(though a claim which they themselves had been most vehe- 
mently raising previously), they went frantic with alarm. 
"He now," they cried, "wants a Popish parliament, to doom 
us all to the gibbet and stake ! " And so, for the first time 
in their history, they became Unionists, through fear of 
" Dan O'Connell and the Pope." 

O'Connell soon found how great a change thirty or forty 
years had made in the attitude of parties and the bearing of 
public questions. In 1805 or 1810, or even in 1820, it was 
but a comparatively short and easy step to revert to the 
familiar institution, so recently overthrown, of King, Lords, 
and Commons of Ireland. " Eepeal " meant simply the re- 
peal of an act of Parliament a few years' old, — a proceeding 
which would replace things as they stood, as it were, but 



36 NEW IRELAND. 

yesterday. No new machinery would be needed. It was 
merely that once more, as before, the Viceroy would proceed 
in state from Dublin Castle to the Parliament House in Col- 
lege Green, and read the royal speech to the peers and com- 
moners of Ireland. A few years of illegal interregnum 
would be forgotten in the general joy. Eyery thing would 
go on as it did previously. There would be the same fran- 
chises, the same representation, the same forms, the same 
domestic and international relations. 

But after forty years had passed, it was found this could 
not be said. Things had happened in the interval which 
rendered a return to the old arrangements, pure and simple, 
an impossibility. The very reforms which O'Connell had 
been throughout those forty years laboring to accomplish 
forbade a restoration of the old forms and institutions. 
Catholic Emancipation enabled Catholics to sit in Parlia- 
ment ; whereas in the Irish legislature none but Protestants 
could have a place. The Reform Bill of 1832 revolution- 
ized the old franchise and representative systems ; and elec- 
tions to an Irish parliament on any but the new ones would 
be out of the question. It was clear that new arrangements 
would have to be made ; that a mere repeal of the Union 
Act, throwing things back upon their old forms of existence, 
would be absurd, if not impracticable. 

O'Connell's demand, therefore, meant a great deal more 
than Repeal ; for he claimed not merely to annul the Act 
of "Union, but to supplant or supplement the ancient forms 
and franchises, checks and counterchecks, by the important 
changes which an imperial legislature had in the interval 
decreed and effected. This gave the Government a clever 
advantage in argument. "In an exclusively Protestant 
Irish parliament," they said, "England, as a Protestant 
country, had a certain amount of security for the connec- 
tion ; but under a new arrangement, to allow the pre-Union 
powers to an Irish parliament predominantly Catholic would 
afford no such guarantee." In any case the Government 



O'CONNELL AND REPEAL. 37 

party would have resisted the demand for Repeal ; but this 
demand for Eepeal and something more they were sure to 
combat with all the greater determination. 

O'Connell felt the difficulty, and vainly sought to parry 
it by declaring he would be satisfied that Catholic Emancipa- 
tion should be undone if it stood in the way ; but this was 
not to be seriously entertained. One can hardly credit that 
the Catholics would submit to it. He had only to push on 
with his agitation as best he could, laying absurd stress on 
what he called "the golden link of the crown," and claim- 
ing that the two parliaments (Irish and British) would soon 
come to an amicable arrangement on all points of common 
interest. Perhaps they might ; perhaps they might not. 
The imperialists, however, were not likely to commit them- 
selves to the hazard of what a predominantly Catholic Irish 
parliament might or might not do with powers as wide or 
vague as those possessed by the Protestant Irish parliament 
of 1782. 

There can be no doubt that had O'Connell adopted the 
course taken by the Home Rulers of 1870, and proposed 
those international arrangements, compromises, adjustments, 
and guarantees explicitly beforehand, he would have consid- 
erably allayed the apprehensions and disarmed the hostility 
which so invincibly encountered his movement. "At one 
time he intimated his intention of doing so ; but the popular 
feeling in favor of the old name and the old form of the 
national demand seemed too strong. He feared to let the 
people think he meant to abate a jot of his claim for " Re- 
peal," £0., Repeal phis Catholic Emancipation and Electoral 
and Corporate Reform ; but from that hour he must have 
felt that he was fighting on the wrong line and at fatal dis- 
advantage. 

The affection and gratitude of the Irish people for "the 
Liberator"— and well he earned both at their hands— will 
not allow much freedom in criticising his plans or his policy, 
his conduct or his character. In that character there were 



38 JSTUW IRELAND. 

some features and elements that would not command admira- 
tion in these later days, but which nevertheless went to make 
up his qualifications for the task he undertook. He was the 
man for his age and time, the man for the special work and 
mission which he was assigned to fulfill. In many respects 
he would be sadly out of place in the public life of 1877 J 
but no man of 1877 could accomplish the herculean labors 
of his career. True greatness of soul and courage indomi- 
table alone could have carried him through the difficulties 
which he cheerfully faced and triumphantly encountered. 
Forlorn indeed were the fortunes of the Irish Catholics when, 
surrendering brilliant professional prospects and sacrificing 
every other ambition, he devoted his life to the formidable 
enterprise of efEecting their redemption. When he entered 
public affairs, and for a long time afterward, he was the 
object of dislike and hostility on the part of many of the 
Catholic prelates and most of the Catholic gentry in Ireland. 
They denounced him as a " demagogue." Again and again 
our "upper class" Catholics assured the Government of the 
day and the people of England that the "extreme ideas" of 
violent agitators about Emancipation were to them, as mod- 
erate men and loyal citizens, positively distressing. A hun- 
dred years and more of the Penal Code had done its work 
with these men. They trembled lest new commotions might 
wrest from them the comparative tolerance they now enjoyed. 
" Your Grace will, I hope, not deem me accountable for the 
foolishness of those who address me as 'My Lord,'" wrote a 
Catholic archbishop of O'Connell's time to the Duke of Wel- 
lington. Leave to live seemed a great deal to men whose 
youth had seen the " discoverer " and the " priest-hunter " 
at work.* 

* " Discoverers " were men who prowled through the country seek- 
ing out grounds for the filing of "bills of discovery," as they were 
called, against Papists holding property, or against Protestants who 
held lands in secret trust for Papist neighbors. It is said the ances- 
tral estates of the Bryans of Jehkinstown, a prominent and wealthy 



O'CONNELL AND REPEAL. 39 

O'Connell, whose eloquence was massive and rugged, some- 
times coarse, and rarely classical, answered back the Catholic 
aristocracy with vituperation and scorn for their slavishness 
and cowardice. The bishops he studiously passed by. He 
had at his back a few of the Catholic gentry, nearly all the 
Catholic mercantile and middle classes, many of the secular 
or parochial clergy, and the religious orders to a man. As 
for his humbler classes, it is hardly an exaggeration to say 
that every man, woman, and child was ready to die for him. 

Some of his most distinguished colleagues of the Emanci- 
pation campaign (notably Eichard Lalor Sheil) refused to fol- 

Catliolic family, were preserved from confiscation throughout the 
whole of the eighteenth century by the chivalrous honor and fidelity 
of the Marquises of Ormonde, who were Protestants. These held the 
title-deeds in their own names from father to son through a hundred 
years, secretly handing over the rents, until the Bryans at last were 
free by law openly to hold and enjoy their broad domains. It was 
in this way, by the noble conduct of individual Protestants in an age 
of dreadful edicts, that nearly every acre of ancient Catholic estates, 
of any that survive to our time, was saved to the " Popish" proprie- 
tors. 

"Priest-hunters" were a class who made a livelihood by earning 
the rewards for hunting up concealed priests. The western and north- 
ern counties of Ireland abounded thirty years ago with the traditions 
of these priest-hunts. In my own native district every tourist to Glen- 
gariffe is shown the Priest's Leap Mountain, or " Leam-a-thagart." 
Here, according to local tradition, which had no more pious and awe- 
struck believer than myself, a great miracle was wrought. A holy 
priest, who had long eluded the search of those who sought his blood, 
was riding along a lonely bridle-path which still exists, when he was 
suddenly confronted by the " Shanna soggarth." " Aha ! your rever- 
ence, I have you at last," laughed the pursuer. But the priest, taking 
out his breviary, read three words in Latin, and struck spurs into the 
horse, which sprang through the air and never came down till he 
reached Donemark Wood, six miles distant, where the mark of his 
knees and of the priest's thumb and four fingers are still to be seen in 
the rock on which he alighted. Many a time and oft I have seen these 
proofs of the story, and I do not greatly rejoice in the day when I 
realized that the rain-drip from an aged oak had worn those marks in 
the stone. 



40 NEW IRELAND. 

low him into the Repeal movement. Others, largely from 
personal devotion as well as political conviction, kept their 
places by his side. It was tame work, however, some of them 
protested, compared with the "old times," when after every 
banquet or public meeting there was generally, somehow, an 
invitation to " meet " some one in "the Fifteen Acres, be the 
same more or less." O'Connell, after the fatal encounter in 
which he shot D'Esterre, made and kept a solemn vow never 
more to send or accept a challenge, — a circumstance which 
had a powerful influence in banishing political dueling from 
Ireland. This non-combatant style of agitation was viewed 
with great disgust by sucli men as the O'Gorman Mahon, who 
had been " out " no less than thirteen times. O'Connell one 
day, at the Repeal Association, delivered a speech in reply to 
apolitical attack designed to bring about a "message," in 
which he reaffirmed his resolution to accept no challenge 
during the rest of his life ; making at the same time some 
exceedingly pious observations on the sinfulness of the prac- 
tice he had relincmished. "Mr. Chairman," said the O'Gor- 
man Mahon, when O'Connell had sat down, " I think it may 
be useful to state that / have made no such resolution : God 
forbid ! " * 

* About three years ago we were startled in Ireland by tbe reap- 
pearance of tbis typical veteran of tbe Emancipation and Repeal times. 
For a quarter of a century no one bad seen or beard of him ; when lo ! 
his tall, soldierly figure, broad-shouldered and erect as an uplifted 
lance, — with snow-white hair copiously flowing over his shoulders, — 
appeared like a vision in our midst, at the Home Eule Conference of 
1873. On that occasion he was one of a dozen guests dining with a 
leading Home Rule member of Parliament, — two Catholic clergymen 
being of tbe number. Our conversation turned on those strange times 
when a man was liable any day to be called to meet death for some 
fancied ground of challenge in a political speech, and especially the 
number of occasions on which our friend Colonel the O'Gorman Mahon 
had to face such an ordeal. To do him justice, he himself was rigidly 
reticent ; seemed not to relish these references to bis dueling ex- 
periences at all. One of tbe clergymen thought the colonel's feelings 



&CONNELL AND REPEAL. 41 

In the course of O'Connell's career there first appeared in 
the Irish political arena a figure, an element of force, which 
more than any other has excited the English imagination, — 
" the Irish priest in politics." That figure, as we beheld it 
some thirty years ago, will henceforth be seen no more. Not 
one of all the wondrous changes which time has wrought 
marks more strongly the difference between the old Ireland 
and the new than the altered attitude, position, and attri- 
butes of the priest in politics. He has not quitted the arena. 
No hostile action, no subsidence of confidence, has affected 
him. But he stands in new — utterly and completely new — 
relations, politically speaking, toward the people. Those 
who have looked at this historical character from a distance 
have strangely misread it. To Englishmen the despotic 
power wielded by the Irish priest in politics — the implicit 
way in which the people obeyed and followed him — could 
but seem a woeful spectacle of clerical tyranny on the one 
hand and slavish subserviency on the other. But that power 
and that obedience arose out of the peculiar circumstances of 
the time ; and as out of and with them they arose, so with 
them they have passed away. 

might have been wounded by our strong censures of dueling, and he 
proceeded to soothe matters a little : 

" I can well understand, however," said he, "how, in a time when 
society enforced such a shocking code, a man might feel, as it were, 
compelled — left no choice— when subjected to a challenge. Eefusal 
meant disgrace, social ostracism. In fact, the blame attaching to a 
man who, not sending but receiving a challenge, went out under this 
sense of compulsion, was, to say the least " 

The colonel could stand this no longer. " Gentlemen," said he, 
rising to his feet, "I feel bound to declare on my honor as a gentle- 
man that though, unfortunately as I may say, I have been many 
times a principal in a hostile meeting, never once did I receive a chal- 
lenge. / always was tlie challenger ! " A roar of laughter at the dis- 
comfiture of the reverend friend, who was, as he thought, suggesting 
a charitable exculpation of the colonel, hailed the resentful disclaimer 
of the old campaigner. 



42 NEW IRELAND. 

When O'Connell, the young, daring, duel-fighting, elo- 
quent, and fearless lawyer, took up the cause of the Catholic 
serfs, timidity or selfishness on the part of the few better- 
class co-religionists had left the people, so to speak, derelict. 
The abstract justice of their cause, the cruel weight of their 
fetters, had indeed won for them the sympathies of great and 
noble men in a legislature exclusively Protestant ; but they 
were talked of and pleaded for very much as the negroes 
were talked of and pleaded for by Wilberforce or Horace 
Greeley. Whether they really were or were not men and 
brothers was a great part of the question. What ought to 
be done, or might be done, for them was constantly debated. 
The man and brother arising in his chains and stalking into 
the political arena to do something for himself startled every 
one like a portentous apparition. 

What happened then was exactly what would have hap- 
pened had the Irish been Baptists, Presbyterians, Methodists, 
or episcopalian Protestants in the same plight, instead of 
Catholics. Usually, even in a country where education and 
political rights are widely diffused, the middle and upper 
classes become the political leaders of the people around 
them whose national and religious sympathies are more or 
less their own. In such a state of things, the appearance 
of the clergyman as a political leader in a special and promi- 
nent way would, very naturally, be a cause for wonder. 
But this was not the case with the Catholic masses in Ire- 
land forty years ago. No identity of feeling, political or 
religious, linked them and the gentry class in a community 
of interest. They were unlettered, unenfranchised, bereft 
of the natural leaders of a people. In every parish, how- 
ever, there was one man (and in many only one man) of 
their own way of thinking who had education and ability, 
was independent of Government, and was devoted to them, 
— nay, recommended to their confidence by a thousand con- 
siderations. He was not only clergyman and pastor ; he 
was local law-giver and arbitrator, monitor and judge, coun- 



O'CONNELL AND REPEAL. 43 

selor and adviser, — the one advocate and protector whose 
every energy they well knew would readily be devoted to 
their weal. If haply in one parish out of ten there were to 
be found a Catholic or two of the gentleman class, when the 
novel idea of the people moving in political affairs was pro- 
pounded, these propertied few cowered in alarm, and trem- 
bled lest the Government should be -angry. The priest was 
the one man whom the simple and unschooled but resolute 
peasant felt he might endow with an unrestricted proxy. 
Experience soon came to tell him that by implicitly trusting 
and obeying this political proxy-holder, rights were won and 
disabilities swept away in the devious and difficult ways of 
public conflict. The priests themselves, who at first very 
reluctantly (and most often despite the displeasure of their 
pusillanimous bishops) assumed these new functions and 
responsibilities, began to grow more bold and confident 
under the incitements and encouragement of O'Connell. 
At length they became the agency through which he or- 
ganized and moved the whole kingdom. They thought for 
their flocks ; acted and spoke for them ; told them what to 
do, and it was done ; how to vote, and so they voted ; who 
in the big world outside was their foe, and him they hated ; 
who their friend, and him they blessed. 

Enormous was the power thus thrown into the hands of 
the Irish priests. The result certainly was not all unmixed 
good. Abuses inevitably came. In some cases, few indeed, 
the possession of such authority led to arrogance and despot- 
ism. In others its exercise was so mingled with what was 
of spiritual character, that evils of no small magnitude 
arose to the view of thoughtful politicians looking on. Yet 
must impartial judgment declare that never in political 
affairs was influence so great, on the whole, so unselfishly 
and so faithfully used in the interests of those for whom it 
was possessed. It was a prerogative that could only have 
arisen under abnormal conditions of society ; a power that 
could not be coexistent with widely-diffused education and 



44 NEW IRELAND. 

self-reliant political action on the part of the people. Ne- 
cessity called it forth ; with necessity it disappeared. 

Under such circumstances, sustained by such allies, O'Con- 
nell, the object of popular worship and aristocratic aversion, 
pushed on his agitation. The movement, as he shaped and 
guided it, must inevitably have fallen with his own life, so 
large a part of it was he. His policy was to maintain in 
Ireland a state of things which was neither peace nor war ; 
that balked the commander-in-chief and harassed the prime 
minister. Strange to say, though rousing the people to the 
utmost pitch of excitement, the dominant anxiety of his 
soul was to keep them out of the meshes of the law, — to 
avert collision, so that he, their leader, might fight the law 
within the law. By such tactics he had won Emancipation ; 
by a repetition of them he hoped to carry Kepeal. But the 
strain was too great on the energies of a nation to keep up a 
tension so severe as that which this policy involved. It was 
politics at high pressure, an excitement difficult to be main- 
tained. Irishmen had not yet learned how much superior 
to the exertion of enthusiasm is the less demonstrative but 
more telling strength of patient plodding perseverance. 

O'Connell again and again promised his followers success 
— absolute and infallible success — on the sole condition of 
obeying his directions, and, in an hour of weakness or rash- 
ness, he announced that "within six months" Eepeal would 
be won. In that moment it was all over with O'Connell and 
Repeal. The Government needed but to tide over a year or 
two, and the great tribune was discredited, the spell of his 
influence broken. But they did more. They boldly assumed 
the offensive, resorting to some steps which would hardly be 
tolerated by public opinion in our time. On the threshold 
of the movement the Lord Lieutenant of the day announced 
that no Repealer would be appointed to Government situa- 
tions. 'Twas a keen thrust this, but not mortal : it had no 
very appreciable effect. Later on, however, came the extreme 
course of summarily dismissing from the commission of the 



O'CONNELL AND REPEAL. 45 

peace every county magistrate who identified himself in any 
way with Repeal politics. To parry this blow, O'Connell set 
up popular arbitration courts all over the kingdom, leaving 
the petty sessions bench "high and dry." The Government 
announced that they were determined to put down Eepeal ; 
O'Connell answered by defying them. He called a monster 
meeting to petition the Queen on the plains of Clontarf, mem- 
orable as the site of the great battle in which Ard-Ri Brian I. 
overthrew the Danish power in 1014. The Government, in 
the dusk of the evening preceding the appointed day, issued a 
proclamation forbidding the assemblage, and the hour of 
meeting found the city occupied by horse, foot, and artillery. 
By strenuous exertions the Kepeal leader and his friends were 
able, during the night and morning, to intercept the tens of 
thousands of people from the surrounding counties marching 
to the spot, where, had they arrived, a collision was inevi- 
table. O'Connell charged the executive with designing a 
Peterloo on a monster scale, and threatened to impeach Peel, 
"Wellington, and Earl de Grey. They retorted by dealing 
him a still heavier blow. They arrested him and some of his 
principal associates — his son, John O'Connell ; Charles Ga- 
van Duffy, of the Nation; Dr. Gray, of the Freeman ; Tom 
Steele ; T. M. Ray ; R. Barrett, of the Pilot ; the Rev. Mr. 
Tyrrell, and the Rev. Mr. Tierney — on a charge of seditious 
conspiracy. Eighteen hundred and forty-four — the " Repeal 
year," as O'Connell, six months before, boastfully said it 
should be called — found the great tribune a prisoner in 
Richmond jail. 

In selecting the jury at his trial, it was discovered that 
several leaves or slips of the long panel list had been lost, the 
Crown lawyers said ; stolen, the traversers declared. The 
Attorney-General contended that it made no great matter ; 
there were names enough to go on with. The court agreed 
with him : the trial proceeded, the accused were found guilty 
and sentenced to various fines and terms of imprisonment. 
A writ of error was carried to the House of Lords mainly 



46 NEW IRELAND. 

on the point as to the lost or stolen slips of the jury list. 
What the Irish judges solemnly decided to be trivial and im- 
material the law-lords at Westminster declared to be all- 
important and of the vital essence of trial by jury. " Were 
such things to be allowed," Lord Denman said, " trial by jury 
would become a mockery, a delusion, and a snare." The 
conviction was quashed, and O'Connell and his fellow- 
prisoners were borne from prison in a triumphal procession 
eclipsing any public demonstration ever previously seen in 
Ireland. 

So much merely epitomizes the history of that eventful 
time. Behind and alongside of all this, however, there were 
causes and influences at work which of themselves were cer- 
tain to eventuate in important political changes. By 1846 a 
transition period had dawned in Irish politics. Already the 
schools and the newspapers were beginning to make them- 
selves felt. O'Connell became aware that there was growing 
up around him a new generation, who chafed under the be- 
nevolent despotism of his leadership, and who objected to his 
canon of "implicit obedience," unless they had first rea- 
soned out matters. He was now an old man, no longer the 
dashing, high-spirited young Kerryman of Emancipation 
days ; he trembled for the possible indiscretions of these fiery 
orators and seditiously patriotic poets who were rapidly in- 
fusing their bold spirit into the multitude. In his own hot 
youth he could praise Tell and Hofer, and erstwhile glow 
with admiration for the three hundred at Thermopylse. 
But, sore wounded by the failure of his promises, the defeat 
of his policy, and oppressed with gloomy misgivings as to the 
possibility of averting much longer a collision between the 
people and the Government, he could not endure these things 
now. He called the young orators and poets the "war 
party," but he did them wrong. Not one of them, at that 
date, dreamt of war or a resort to physical force. Solicitous 
for the legal safety of the Repeal Association, he drew up 
test resolutions, which impliedly, if not expressly, con- 



O'CONNELL AND REPEAL. 47 

demned as wrongful any and every effort, in any age or 
time, clime or country, to redress political wrongs by armed 
resort. These resolutions were aimed at the men already 
known as the "Young Ireland" party, intellectually the 
flower of the Kepeal movement, — men whose genius 
adorned, and whose labors elevated and refined, Irish poli- 
tics. They offered readily to subscribe such resolutions as 
applied to their own aims and purposes ; but they refused, 
they said, to stigmatize the men of other times and other 
struggles. With this O'Connell would not be content, and 
an expulsion or secession, destined to have enduring effects 
on Irish politics, rent the Repeal Association in twain. 

To the superficial view of most English politicians all this 
was merely an "Irish row," a political squabble. In like 
events occurring in Belgium or Italy or France the philos- 
ophy of politics would be studied. The supreme advantages 
which sometimes indubitably attend the concentration of 
political power and authority in the hands of one man are 
purchased by heavy hazards and penalties. When age has 
weakened the master-mind, dissidence becomes more and 
more intolerable, adulation more and more pleasing in his 
ears. Obsequiousness is called fidelity ; honest independence 
is suspected as disloyalty. The grand old tribune of the 
Irish people, failing physically and mentally, became the 
sport of whispered jealousies and suspicions. Accustomed 
to wield unquestioned authority and to receive implicit obe- 
dience, he could see, under the inspirations then swaying 
him, in the disciples of the new school of thought merely so 
many plotting aspirants envious of his throne. 

But apart from all this a calamity was now at hand be- 
neath which everything was to go down. The famine of 
1846-47 swept the land like a storm of destruction. At 
such a moment political agitation or political organization 
would be as much out of place as among the terrified occu- 
pants of a raft or the victims in a house on fire. The wild 
scramble for life, for mere existence, overmastered every 



48 NEW IRELAND. 

other purpose. It seemed as if society would be resolved 
into its first elements. Aghast, appalled, O'Connell gazed 
on the ruin of the cause, — the destruction of the people he 
had given his life to serve. In the agony of his soul he 
flung himself into the one supreme effort to save them. 
No more he thundered defiance. He wept, he prayed, he 
cried aloud, " God ! thy faithful people perish ! " The 
struggle was too much. The great heart and the grand brain 
gave way. Mournfully, despairingly the old man sank into 
the tomb. He had lived too long ; he had seen the wreck of 
all he loved. To Rome, to Eome he would bend his way ; he 
would see the successor of St. Peter and visit the shrines 
of the apostles before he might die. Not so God willed 
that it should be. At "Genoa the Superb" he halted 
on the way; "to rest a little," he said. The attendants 
saw that his great rest was at hand. On the 15th of May, 
1847, all was over : the "Irish Liberator" was no more. 

Gloomy ending to a great career ! Concurrence of fatalities ! 
One now can see that even before the first shadow of famine 
fell upon the scene a catastrophe was inevitable. The great 
organization that so largely embodied the national hopes and 
purposes was virtually at an end. After the Young Ire- 
land secession the Government had need no more to concern 
itself with its once formidable foe. O'Connell's power in the 
future was broken. But nothing could take from his brow 
the laurels of the past. He had played his part ; he had no- 
bly done his allotted work. " I ought to have fallen at Wa- 
terloo," said Napoleon, regretfully, at St. Helena. O'Con- 
nell ought to have died in " Twenty-nine," or perhaps on the 
great day of Tara, in eighteen hundred and forty-three. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE KIBBON" CONFEDERACY. 

Throughout the half -century extending from 1820, to 
1870, a secret oath-bound agrarian confederacy, known as 
the "Ribbon Society" was the constant affliction and re- 
curring terror of the landed classes of Ireland. The Vehm- 
gericht itself was not more dreaded. The Mama did not 
more mysteriously baffle and defy suppression. The lord in 
his castle, the peasant in his hut, were alike made to feel the 
existence of its hateful power. 

I think it can be shown that for more than a hundred 
years — ever since the commencement of the last century — 
secret agrarian confederacies of one sort or another have ex- 
isted in Ireland, all having their source and origin in the 
miseries and feuds incidental to a vicious land system. Few 
of them, however, attained to the dimensions of the Ribbon 
Conspiracy ; none of them lived so long. 

It is assuredly strange — indeed, almost incredible — that 
although the existence of this organization was, in a general 
way, as well and as widely known as the fact that Queen 
Victoria reigned, or that Daniel O'Connell was once a living 
man, although the story of its crimes has thrilled judge and 
jury, and parliamentary committees have filled ponderous 
blue books with evidence of its proceedings, there is to this 
hour the widest conflict of assertion and conclusion as to 
what exactly were its real aims, its origin, structure, charac- 
ter, and purpose. 

The most prevalent idea is that it related solely or mainly 
to transactions in land, and was "non-political," that is, had 
3 49 



50 NEW IRELAND. 

no design against the Government ; but this impression can 
be the result of no very special knowledge or investigation 
of the subject. Whatever Kibbonism developed into subse- | 
quently, it is the fact that at an early stage it was held out 
to be "political" in the sense above referred to. It would, 
perhaps, be more correct to say that in some parts of Ire- 
land, or at some period of its existence, it professed to be an 
organization of that character ; for I long ago satisfied my- 
self that the Kibbonism of one period was not the Kibbonism 
of another, — that the version of its aims and character prev- 
alent among its own members in one county or district dif- 
fered widely from that existing elsewhere. In Ulster it 
professed to be a defensive or retaliatory league against 
Orangeism. In Munster it was at first a combination against 
tithe-proctors. In Connaught it was an organization against 
rack-renting and evictions. In Leinster it often was mere 
trade-unionism, dictating by its mandates and enforcing 
by its vengeance the employment or dismissal of workmen, 
stewards, and even domestics. This latter phase generally 
preceded the disappearance of the system in a particular 
locality, and was evidently the lowest and basest form to 
which it sank or rotted in decay. Everywhere and at all times 
Kibbonism had, no doubt, certain general forms or features 
in common. Some of these were very remarkable. In the 
first place, although at one time, and in some localities, it 
affected to be a political organization for national designs, 
there cannot be found in the records of its proceedings 
evidence or trace of participation in them by any person of 
social position or education above a very humble grade ; and 
I need hardly remark that at no period of Irish history could 
this be said of really political conspiracies. The Kibbon 
Society seems to have been wholly confined to small farmers, 
cottiers, laborers, and, in the towns, petty shop-keepers, 
in whose houses the "lodges" were held. Its documents, 
correspondence, rules, passwords, and addresses betray in 
most instances the grossest illiteracy ; although the construe- 



THE RIBBON CONFEDERACY. 51 

tion and management of the organization exhibited much 
cleverness, activity, vigilance, and resource. The next sin- 
gular fact is that although from the inception, or first 
appearance, of Eibbonism the Catholic clergy waged a deter- 
mined war upon it, — denouncing it from the altar, and 
going so far as to refuse the sacrament to its adherents, — 
the society was exclusively Catholic. Under no circum- 
stances would a Protestant be admitted to membership ; nay, 
any person nearly related to, or connected with, a Protestant 
was disqualified. This is about the only feature which 
seems to have been universally prevalent and invincibly re- 
tained in the hundred forms of Irish Eibbonism. The fact 
has, however, led to some utterly erroneous ideas as to the 
alleged sanguinary sectarian designs of the organization, and 
has encouraged the concoction of some rather stupidly 
forged "Eibbon oaths." One of these was cited by Mr. 
Monk, in the House of Commons, on the 18th of March, 
1871, and ran as follows : 

" By virtue of the oath I have taken I will aid and assist with all 
my mind and strength, when called upon, to massacre Protestants and 
cut away heretics, hum British churches, and abolish Protestant 
kings and princes, and all others except the Church of Rome and this 
system. . . . And I also feel bound to believe that there is no 
absolution to be had from the Pope of Rome or any other authority 
belonging to that Church, or that which is to come, from any breach of 
this test." 

The spuriousness of this production was instantly per- 
ceived and pointed out in Ireland. The person who com- 
posed it was not only not a Catholic (as a Eibbonman would 
necessarily have been), but he was ignorant of the way in 
which Catholics invariably refer to topics touched on in the 
alleged oath. They never speak or write of their own 
Church as "that" Church ; and the "Pope of Eome" is a 
Protestant, not a Catholic, phrase in Ireland. An Irish peas- 
ant would scarcely know what was meant by a "British 
church." Indeed, the Irish Chief Secretary (Lord Harting- 



52 NEW IRELAND. 

ton) admitted that though the police had found a copy of 
such an oath in a house near Mullingar, its authenticity was 
not accepted in Dublin Castle. 

Of genuine Kibbon oaths — those the use of which in the 
lodges was actually deposed to — there is a confusing plenty 
and a contrast of these will amply corroborate my statement 
that the real origin, character, and aims of the combination 
have baffled discovery, or that there were various Kibbon sys- 
tems, radically differing one from another. Between 1820 
and 1870 there have been put in evidence, or sworn to in 
"informations" more than a score of irreconcilable Eibbon 
oaths. Some, for instance, set out by pledging the most de- 
voted fealty to the Queen ; others by swearing allegiance to 
" Daniel O'Connell, real King of Ireland, and his eldest son, 
Maurice O'Connell, our Chief Commander." Of these two 
oaths, or classes of oaths, various versions have been given, 
not merely by " approvers " in the witness-box, but from 
written documents seized at lodge-meetings. The explana- 
tion of all this very probably is that the local officials of the 
society in many places added some words of their own. The 
general features of the oath seemed to be to keep the secrets 
of the society ; implicit obedience to its officers ; readiness to 
assemble and execute commands "at two hours' notice;" 
pledge to assist any fellow-member being beaten or ill treated. 
In several versions the oath contained a clause binding the 
members "never to drink to excess so as to endanger the di- 
vulging of secrets." 

Not long since I was shown a printed report (now, I be- 
lieve, very rare) of the trial in Dublin in 1840 of Richard 
Jones, the first high officer — indeed, I believe, the first mem- 
ber — of the Ribbon Society whom the Government were able 
to convict, after nearly twenty years of fruitless endeavors to 
grapple with the system. In this publication frequent refer- 
ence is made to a book found on the prisoner, in which he 
had copied in short-hand characters most of his secret corre- 
spondence with the lodge and lodge-officers, as well as the 



THE RIBBON CONFEDERACY. 53 

signs, passwords, rules, and regulations of the society. The 
Government did not divulge on the trial all that the book 
contained ; but they caused to be executed for their private 
information a full copy of its contents, probably the most 
complete and authentic revelation they were able to obtain, 
before or since, of the character, designs, and transactions of 
the Eibbon Society. Government documents are not always 
carefully kept. That identical manuscript translation of 
Jones's secret book is this moment in my possession.* 

Jones was clerk to a sales-master in Smithfield Market, 
Dublin, and filled the office of general secretary for Ireland 
in the Eibbon system. In truth he appears to have been 
the ruling spirit of the society. A perusal of this corre- 
spondence certainly shows that Eibbonism was then being 
established with political aims or pretensions. Jones, who, 
though a man of humble education, certainly possessed con- 
siderable ability and force of character, appears on the face 
of these communications to have been nothing of the vulgar 
and venal villain which most Eibbon organizers are assumed 
to have been. From first to last he is energetically repress- 
ing discords, counseling union, and directing the expulsion 
of bad and doubtful characters. I find no trace of selfish 
gain or profit to himself — quite the contrary — in the whole 
story ; while as to the aims of the confederacy, though on 
this point there is wondrous vagueness and confusion, these 
letters are full of allusions essentially political in their char- 
acter. To "free Ireland," — to "liberate our country," — 
to "unite all Eoman Catholics," are again and again men- 
tioned, incidentally, as the great objects of the society. On 
the 24th of April, 1838, Jones, writing to an official of the 
society in England, says, " Send us word immediately what 
is the determination -of the friends belonging to the Hiber- 
nians in Liverpool. If they act for the welfare of their 

* I believe that documents of even a much more startling character 
have been dispersed through the waste-paper shops of Dublin since the 
death of a well-known Castle official a few years ago. 



54 NEW IRELAND. 

native land they will join with those persons whose wish il 
is to see their native land free. The motto of every honest 
Irishman should be, ' Unite and free your native land." 
Nay, strange to say, I find in one of Jones's letters not read: 
on the trial an observation which sounds curiously at the 
present moment. " The hour of England's difficulty is at 
hand ; " he tells them : "the Russian bear is drawing near 
to her in India." Again, on the 21st of May, 1838, Andrew 
Dardis and Richard Jones, the grand master and grand sec- 
retary, write to a lodge-master in the country, " We are happy 
to hear that the men of your county that were heretofore op- 
posed to the interests of our native land are to meet you on 
the 27th for the purpose of causing unity of feeling." In 
fine, it is abundantly clear that, in some hazy general way, 
the Ribbonmen of this period were induced to believe that 
the organization was a political conspiracy against the Gov- 
ernment, and not the mere agrarian combination which it 
subsequently proved to be. 

The name "Ribbon" Society was not attached to it until 
about 1826. It was previously known as "Liberty Men;" 
the " Religious Liberty System ; " the " United Sons of Irish 
Freedom ; " "Sons of the Shamrock ; " and by other names. 
From an early period there were rival Ribbon organizations 
bitterly opposing one another ; and Jones's great concern 
seems to have been to put down this contention and effect a 
fusion. 

The Government were fairlyperplexed by the conflicting 
accounts sent in from time to time by the magistrates and 
police as to the society. Most of all were they bewildered 
by the stories supplied by their paid agents or " informers " 
in the ranks of the organization. These latter were numer- 
ous enough, and their information, estimated as to quantity, 
was well worth the pay given for it ; but the Government 
declared that in scarcely a single case or a single particular 
were they able to place any reliance on these stories. The 
informants seem to have known very little that could be 



THE RIBBON CONFEDERACY. 55 

made evidence, but to have invented a great deal. Mr. 
Barnes, a stipendiary magistrate greatly trusted by the Gov- 
ernment, writes as follows to the Chief Secretary as to one 
of these informants, whose stories the Lord Lieutenant 
wished him to probe : 

" This man has heen known to me since the month of October last; 
and from my knowledge of him I have no hesitation in designating him 
one of the most consummate and specious villains in all Ireland. He 
was formerly a policeman and discharged for misconduct ; a Protes- 
tant, and turned to mass for the purpose, as he stated to me, of becom- 
ing a Ribbonman and betraying their secrets ; was in my employment 
between four and five months as a secret agent to get me information; 
received in that time upward of fifteen pounds from me, and ended 
our connection by stating, and offering to swear to his statement, that 
he himself was one of the party who murdered Morrison [Lord Lor- 
ton's bailiff], tendering himself to me as an approver, and claiming 
the ' reward and pardon ' offered by the proclamation. Knowing this 
statement to be false, I determined to have nothing more to do with 
the fellow, and accordingly ceased all communication with him." 

Other magistrates were not quite so strait-laced as Mr. 
Barnes, and this "consummate and specious villain" found 
ready employment elsewhere as a police agent for the "de- 
tection " of Kibbonism. In this process there is but too much 
reason to conclude that he pursued a course unfortunately 
not rare in connection with secret associations in Ireland, — 
namely, that he enrolled members and organized or perpe- 
trated outrages himself, then "divulged" to the authori- 
ties, and swore to conviction against his dupes and accom- 
plices.* 

* Mr. Faucett, Provost of Sligo, writes to the Lord Lieutenant of 
one of these informants whom he was asked to report upon privately, 
" He is a doubtful sort of person, on whose uncorroborated testimony 
no reliance should be placed ; and it appears to me his object is to get 
or earn money by his information." Mr. Brownrigg, provincial inspec- 
tor of constabulary, reporting another of them says, "He is a man of 
very bad character." Of yet another, " I have been informed by per- 
sons on whom reliance can be placed that he is a man of the very 



56 NEW IRELAND. 

A Mr. Hill Rowan, stipendiary magistrate, who seems to 
have made the discovery of Kibbonism his special labor, sup- 
plied the most copious information on the subject. In many 
respects he was, clearly, over-credulous. Even the Govern- 
ment considered him given to exaggeration ; yet his revela- 
tions no doubt contained a great deal of truth. According 
to him, the society was the " Society of Confidential Ribbon- 
men." He gravely narrates how one of his informants — no 
doubt belonging to the class above referred to — testified that 
it was first formed by Lord Edward Fitzgerald, in 1798 ; 
that "its present objects were to dethrone the Queen ; to 
place Daniel O'Connell, the member of Parliament for Dub- 
lin, as Catholic king of Ireland in her stead ; to put down 
and destroy the Protestant religion in Ireland ; and to re- 
store the forfeited estates that were usurped by Oliver Crom- 
well, a list of which is kept by tho Catholic priests, to their 
owners." The society extended all over Ireland, and was 
governed by a body called the " Grand Ribband Lodge of 
Ireland," this body being composed of representatives of the 
different county organizations. Quarterly returns of the 
number of members were made by every parish. Over each 
parish there was a "Parochial Committee" of twelve, includ- 
ing the " Parish Master." A delegate from each such com- 
mittee in a barony formed the "Baronial Lodge." All 
orders of the society were to be obeyed under penalty of 
death. The members in each county were known to each 
other by signs and passwords, which were issued by the grand 
lodge every month, but changed as often as the existing or 
current passes ( " goods " they were called) might be discovered 
by the police. There were salutation phrases and " quarrel- 
ing words ; " that is, words which two men engaged in strife 

worst character." Of another the stipendiary magistrate (Mr. O'Brien) 
says, "Mr. Jones admitted there could not be any use made of his 
evidence. Mr. Brownrigg and I came to the conclusion that he was not 
telling one word of truth, but that his object was to get money." Nu- 
merous such cases miffht be cited. 



THE RIBBON CONFEDERACY. 57 

might use to ascertain whether they were not " brethren," 
and so bound to desist. Some of these grips and passwords 
ran as follows : 

(For October.) 

Observation. The winter is approaching. 

Reply. It is time to expect it. 

0. Our foe is found out. 

R. Our guardians are watchful. 

(At night.) 
0. The night is sharp. 
R. It is time to expect it. 

(Quarreling.) 
0. You make a mistake. 
R. I am sorry for it. 

(Sign.) 
The right hand to the right knee. 
The left thumb in the breeches-pocket. 

It will be noted that the opening observation is always of 
a harmless commonplace nature, which if addressed to a stran- 
ger could occasion uo suspicion. "The winter is approach- 
ing " is a remark not out of course in October. If the im- 
mediate response is, " It is time to expect it," the first speaker 
has reason to think he is talking to a brother Eibbonman. 
To make sure, he proceeds with a remark not likely to be 
understood unless by a fellow-member : " Our foe is found 
out." A reply declaring that " Our guardians are watchful " 
establishes brotherhood between the parties. The " quarrel- 
ing words " are similarly explained. Here are other forms : 

0. The days are getting long. 

R. The life of man is getting short. 

0. Have you got any news ? 

R. They are doing well in Canada.* 

* The Canadian rebellion of M. Papineau was proceeding at the 
time. 

3* 



58 NEW IRELAND. 

(Quarreling.) 
0. Don't be fond of quarreling. 
M. By no means. 

Even at that time, forty years ago, Eussia figured so largely 
in public politics as to find a place in these passwords : 

0. What is your opinion of the times ? 
M. I think the markets are on a rise. 
O. Foreign war is the cause of it. 
B. It's the Russians' wish to tyrannize. 
May the sons of Erin wherever they be 
Continue ever in loyalty. 

(Night-word.) 
Q. What is the age of the moon ? 

A. Really I don't know. 

(Sign.) 
Right hand rubbed across the forehead. To be answered by the left 
hand down the pocket. 

The opening observation was, as I have pointed out, inva- 
riably harmless, and skillfully referred to some passing topic. 
Thus the troubles of the Melbourne ministry are brought in : 

0. What do you think of the Government ? 

M. They are much divided. 

O. May Patrick's sons all persevere 

B. To gain the rights of Granu Aile.* 

Down to quite a recent period it was not unusual for per- 
sons in a rank of life far above the Eibbonmen to be indebted 
to some friendly member far protection and assistance by 
"loan" of the sign or password. The late Sir John Gray 
told me that when contesting Monaghan County in 1852 he 
found that his opponents in a particular district had purchased 
the support of the Eibbonmen as an election mob, and that 

* One of the figurative names of Ireland ; actually the Gaelic for 
Grace O'Malley. 



THE RIBBON CONFEDERACY. 59 

passage through the town to the place of meeting would be 
denied him. He realized fully the dangers of appearing in 
the midst of these men ; but in his last moments of despair 
a friend in need turned up. He was waited upon by a myste- 
rious personage, who told him it would be " a disgrace to Ire- 
land if the patriotic editor of the Freeman's Journal was 
bludgeoned in the street, or compelled to hide in his hotel." 
He thereupon confided to Sir John the current Ribbon signs, 
the first of which happened to be simply the drawing of the 
fingers of the right hand across the mouth. Sir John hesi- 
tated for an instant. Was this a trap to lure him into the 
midst of his enemies ? He quickly dismissed the thought, 
and boldly sallied forth, his companions in the hotel, ignor- 
ant of the aegis confided to him, vainly endeavoring to dis- 
suade him. A yell burst from the mob around the door 
when he emerged into the street, and hundreds of sticks rose 
in the air. He quietly lifted his hand to his mouth and gave 
the sign. "For barely a second," said he, telling me the 
story, "there flashed through my mind a horrible uncer- 
tainty ; but by a supreme effort I maintained myself, and 
betrayed no symptom of alarm. Suddenly every voice was 
hushed, every weapon was lowered, and a passage was opened 
out for me in the crowd, amidst which I quietly walked to 
the court-house, where the meeting was proceeding." 

I myself have known instances in the course of what I 
call the rot of the system where the support or opposition of 
the Ribbonmen during an election was quite a matter of 
pounds, shillings, and pence. Mr. Richard Swift, who was 
returned member of Parliament for Sligo County in 1852, — 
one of the most faithful and worthy Englishmen who ever 
espoused the public service of Ireland, — lost his re-election 
in 1857 notoriously because he refused to give a sum of 
money privately demanded as black-mail by the lodges. In 
other cases, I feel bound to admit, the Ribbonmen adopted a 
less venal course. They scorned to fight for pay. 

But alas ! when one comes to review the actual results of 



60 NEW IRELAND. 

the Ribbon system in Ireland,— to survey its bloody work 
throughout those fifty years, — how frightful is the prospect ! 
It has been said, and probably with some truth, that it has 
been too much the habit to attribute erroneously to the Rib- 
bon organization every atrocity committed in the country, 
every deed of blood apparently arising out of agrarian com- 
bination or conspiracy. An emphatic denial, and challenge 
to proofs, have been given to stories of midnight trials and 
sentences of death at lodge-meetings. Very possibly the 
records of lodge-meetings afford no such proof, though there 
is abundant evidence that at such assemblages threatening 
notices and warnings were ordered to be served, and domi- 
ciliary visits for terrorizing purposes were decreed. But 
vain is all pretense that the Ribbon Society did not become, 
whatever the original design or intentions of its members 
may have been, a hideous organization of outrage and mur- 
der. It is one of the inherent evils of oath-bound secret 
societies of this kind, where implicit obedience to secret 
superiors is sworn, that they may very easily and quickly 
drop to the lowest level of demoralization and become asso- 
ciations for the wreaking of mere personal vengeance. Men 
who set themselves to the work of assassination, on any pre- 
tense, speedily become so depraved that life-taking ceases to 
have enormity in their eyes. There was a period when Ribbon 
outrages had, at all events, conceivable provocation ; but 
there came a time when they sickened the public conscience 
by their wantonness. The vengeance of the society was ruth- 
less and terrible. Some forty years ago the Catholic peasantry 
of Longford County were panic-stricken by the commence- 
ment of what looked like a settled design for their extermina- 
tion in order that a Protestant "plantation" might be estab- 
lished in their stead. Lord Lorton was accountable in the 
largest degree for this alarm, and the lamentable conse- 
quences which resulted. He commenced considerable evic- 
tions of his Catholic tenantry under circumstances of great 
hardship ; handing over the farms thus cleared, in several 



THE RIBBON CONFEDERACY. Gl 

consecutive instances, to Protestant new-comers. Popular 
panic no doubt exaggerated much as to what had been done 
and was intended ; but enough was patent on the face of his 
proceedings to account for the wild excitement which arose. 
That excitement culminated in one of the most astonishing 
chapters of savage vengeance of which there is record in 
Ireland. Defending himself and explaining his course of 
action subsequently, Lord Lorton told the fate of nine Prot- 
estant tenants — Brock, Diamond, Moorehead, Cole, Cath- 
cart, Eollins, (another) Diamond, (another) Moorehead, and 
Morrison — whom he had planted on the evicted farms : 

" What became of Brock ? " 

"He was murdered a very short time after he had taken 
possession, close by his house, about six o'clock in the even- 
ing." 

" What became of Diamond ? " 

"Diamond was attacked and very much injured. He is 
now in a disabled state." 

" What became of Alexander Moorehead ? " 

" He had all his cattle destroyed in January." 

" What became of Cole ? " 

" On his way to purchase stock he was stabbed and beaten 
in a most savage manner. His life was despaired of." 

" What became of Cathcart ? " 

"On four different occasions he was fired at, and ulti- 
mately was shot dead near his own dwelling." 

" What became of Rollins ? " 

"Eollins and the second Diamond lived together. Their 
stock was taken away, and was found killed, skinned, and 
buried in bog-holes." 

" What became of Hugh Moorehead ? " 

" He was murdered while sitting round the fire in the 
evening with his little family." 

" What became of William Morrison ?" 

" He was murdered. An armed party attacked and mur- 
dered him in a house in Drumlish. " 



62 NEW IRELAND. 

This terrible recapitulation enables one to realize the 
bloody work of agrarian combinations. To me it certainly 
is peculiarly revolting because of the religious element which 
mingles in the story. Yet there is another side of the pic- 
ture to be looked at. The guilt of one party is not lessened 
by the culpability of the other ; but each has to be viewed. 
I have given in the words of that nobleman himself Lord 
Lorton's thrilling recital of the assassins' vengeance. Were 
I to set forth the accounts of his lordship's proceedings from 
the lips of the Ballinamuck tenantry, it would be a record 
of great barbarity. The relations between him and these 
people seem to have become, in that evil time, those of 
deadly and implacable war. A document under his own 
hand, issued a year before the razing of Ballinamuck (re- 
ferred to below), and relied, upon as a "justification" of 
that ruthless and shocking proceeding, gives some idea of 
Lord Lorton's temper : 

" When murders and other barbarous acts of violence are 
committed upon any part of the property, and convictions 
do not take place at the ensuing assizes, the occupiers of the 
lands on the leases expiring will be ejected." 

That is to say, wholesale eviction — which meant ruin and 
death for the wretched people — was to follow, unless " at 
the ensuing assizes " the Crown prosecuted and convicted 
for murder or other outrage. The edicts of William Rufus 
were more considerate than this. Lord Lorton was as good 
as his threat. Publicly and sincerely he afterward ex- 
pressed his sorrow for the vengeance he wreaked in a 
moment of passion ; but it was too late : he had done that 
which no repentance could undo. He ordered the whole 
population of Ballinamuck to be swept away, and the entire 
village to be razed to the ground. It was done. That 
scene will never be forgotten in Longford. 

A Protestant landlord and magistrate in Sligo County — 
one who was himself, many years ago, "posted" for assas- 
sination by the Ribbon authorities — assured me that the 



THE RIBBON CONFEDERACY. 63 

frightful severity of the law, as administered at the time, — 
the excessive penalties, and the vengeful spirit in which 
they were inflicted, — had much to do in driving the rural 
population into this lawless and savage state. "I have 
known," said he, "a man to be executed for breaking the 
hasp of a door and rescuing a mule belonging to himself 
that had been seized and impounded." This was what was 
called salutary vigor. He added that in more instances 
than one within his own knowledge the crimes of the Rib- 
bonmen, abominable as they were, had been preceded by 
heartless provocations. The way, as my friend described it 
to me, in which the body of a man murdered in that neigh- 
borhood was discovered was truly remarkable. This man, 
Madden by name, — a sullen, daring, reckless fellow, — united 
neaily every avocation that could render him odious to the 
people. He had been a tithe-proctor, brutal and unfeeling 
in his razzias. He was rent-warner and bailiff. He knew 
the surrounding population hated him, and he defiantly 
displayed his hate of them. It was decided at some mid- 
night council that Madden should be put to death. Parties 
of two or three lay in wait for him on several occasions, but 
he happened not to pass by the way which they expected. 
At length no less than thirty-six men, divided into four 
separate parties of nine each, were told off and posted at 
every possible path by which he could reach his house, re- 
turning from the market-town. One of these bands en- 
countered the wretched man, and murdered him, not many 
perches from his own door. While the body was yet warm, 
—nay, horrible to relate, while life yet throbbed in it,— they 
buried it in a corner of a freshly-plowed field close at 
hand, leaving not a trace of their bloody deed visible to 
tell the tale. Madden was missed. The hue and cry was 
raised. The police scoured the whole country-side, searched 
every house, examined every bush and fence, all in vain. 
No clue could be found. It seemed as if the deed was to 
be forever shrouded in impenetrable mystery. One day the 



64 NEW IRELAND. 

daughter of the murdered man was passing from one field to 
another, and mounted an old dry-built stone wall. It gave 
way beneath her, and she fell heavily forward. To save 
herself, as she came with a shock to the ground, she put out 
her hand. As it sunk in the soft soil it touched and grasped 
— the hand of her father's buried corpse ! The unfortu- 
nate man seems to have struggled in his bloody grave 
after the murderers had quitted the scene. He had thrust 
one of his hands upward to within a few inches of the sur- 
face ! 

From 1835 to 1855 the Eibbon organization was at its 
greatest strength. For the last fifteen or twenty years it has 
been gradually disappearing from the greater part of Ire- 
land, yet, strange to say, betimes intensifying, in a baser and 
more malignant form than ever, in one or two localities. 
"With the emigration of the laboring classes it was carried 
abroad, to England and to America. At one time the most 
formidable lodges were in Lancashire, whither, it is said, 
the headquarters were removed for safety. It manifestly 
adapted itself to the necessities or requirements of the class 
whence its ranks were recruited ; for while at home in Ire- 
land it affected to right the wrongs of tenants and farm- 
laborers against landlords and bailiffs, in England it offered 
to its members the advantages of a league offensive and de- 
fensive in a species of trades -union terrorism. Likely 
enough some sort of combination was found to be almost a 
necessity by the laboring Irish at one stage of their existence 
in England, when the effect of their appearance in the labor- 
market drew upon them the fierce hostility of the lower 
classes around them. But all this has passed away ; and the 
few traces of demoralized Eibbonism that may yet be found 
lingering are, in nearly every case, miserable leagues for the 
lowest and worst of purposes, in which Irishman slays Irish- 
man, and leave to live or to obtain employment in a partic- 
ular district is regulated by the secret tribunal. Eibbonism 
has been killed off — has found existence impossible — accord- 



THE RIBBON CONFEDERACY. G5 

ing as a healthier public opinion has grown among the 
masses. Here, again, the school and the newspaper have 
proved powerful agencies of moral and political regeneration. 
This curse of Ireland is doomed to disappear before the on- 
ward march of intelligence and patriotism. 



CHAPTER V. 

FATHER MATHEW. 

u Two suns," we are told, " do not shine in the one firma- 
ment ; " yet the same period of Irish history beheld side by 
side with Daniel O'Connell, at the zenith of his fame, his 
great countryman and contemporary, Theobald Mathew, "the 
Apostle of Temperance." 

In widely-different characters, however, these two men won 
eminence and praise. One was a political leader ; the other 
was a moral reformer. The one commanded the allegiance 
of a party in the State ; the other received the homage of all. 
There is scarcely a country in the civilized world in which 
the memory of Father Mathew is not revered. Wherever 
good men are laboring for the elevation of humanity, the 
story of his career is an incentive to brave endeavor ; and 
how far his work has perished with or survived him is a 
question which excites solicitude. 

Theobald Mathew was born on the 10th of October, 1790, 
at Thomastown House, near Cashel, in Tipperary, at that 
time the seat of George Mathew, Earl of Llandaff. The 
Mathews, or Mathew, family, of Welsh origin, appear to have 
been settled in Tipperary ever since the civil war of 1641. 
In 1650 one of its members, Captain George Mathews, then 
recently married to Lady Cahir, held Cahir Castle for the 
king, but after a brave resistance capitulated to the forces of 
Cromwell, — the Protector, in a letter under his own hand, 
bearing testimony to the gallantry of the defense. 

At an early age young Theobald was sent to Maynooth to 
be educated for the Catholic priesthood ; but an infraction 

66 



FATHER MATHEW. 67 

of discipline — the entertainment of some fellow-students in 
his rooms at forbidden hours, I believe — led to his retirement 
from the college. He completed his ecclesiastical training, 
however, at the Capuchin College, Kilkenny, and was or- 
dained in 1814. After a few years of clerical labor in the 
city of St. Canice, he was moved by his superiors to the 
Cork friary of the order, where he devoted himself with more 
than ordinary zeal to the duties of his position. 

Iu the burst of success which hailed Father Mathew's 
crusade against intoxicating drink, people came to regard 
him as the originator or parent of the temperance movement. 
Yet this was not so. He was a recruit, brought slowly to 
espouse the cause which but for his adhesion might have 
perished in Ireland. As early at all events as 1836 there 
was in Cork a little band of men who had embraced the doc- 
trine of total abstinence from alcoholic beverages. They were 
chiefly Protestants, some of the most active among them be- 
longing to a religious denomination the members of which 
have been leaders in nearly every social and moral reform, 
and every humane or philanthropic effort, within my memory 
in Ireland, — the Society of Friends. 

When it was whispered around that men not yet in a 
lunatic-asylum had taken up the notion that human life was 
possible without alcoholic drink, the wits of Cork laughed 
heartily at the craze. The believers in it were popularly 
regarded very much as the Shaker community seem to be 
in this year of grace eighteen hundred and seventy-seven. 
They were verily the " peculiar people " of that date. After 
a while, undeterred by the derision which they knew awaited 
them, they ventured upon public addresses, usually in some 
little school-room or meeting-house hid away in the back 
lanes. Hither came stray listeners to hear what it was all 
like, and to see with their own eyes the fanatics and fools 
who thought men could do without Beamish and Crawford's 
porter or Wyse's whisky. Many " came to scoff," but few 
indeed " remained to pray." There is, perhaps, not a city 



68 NEW IRELAND. 

in the empire so dominated by sarcasms as Cork. Every 
well-known character has a soubriquet fastened on him by 
some one of the local wits. Every incident is viewed from 
its comic side. In the Momonian capital, to be laughed at 
is to be suppressed ; and this cold-water business was over- 
whelmed by ridicule. 

Toiling laboriously amidst the squalor and poverty of the 
poorest quarter of Cork city, the young Capuchin was at 
this time laying the foundation for that marvelous personal 
influence which afterward formed so great a part of his 
power. He was not content with discharging the ordinary 
duties of his sacred calling, although these were in them- 
selves severe and trying. He pushed entirely outside the 
strictly spiritual sphere. He set up schools, — infant and 
adult, Sunday and weekday ; rented a loft here and a third- 
floor there, wherein he established industrial teaching, the 
girls being taught various knitting and needle-work occupa- 
tions, the boys such trades as seemed most suitable. Then 
there was not a dispensary or a hospital, not an alms society 
or room-keepers' aid fund, in Cork, that he was not in the 
thick of the work, pushing on every good endeavor, and 
constantly devising some new experiment in the same direc- 
tion. Before long the name of the young friar was a house- 
hold word ; his untiring activity, his noble unselfishness, 
his ardent anxiety for upraising the moral and social condi- 
tion of the wretched masses, were the theme of every tongue. 
These labors inevitably brought him into association with 
good and philanthropic men of every creed and every grade ; 
and the charm of his manner, his bright, genial, kindly 
nature, his unaffected simplicity and single-mindedness, soon 
rendered him as great a favorite with Protestants as with his 
own co-religionists. 

Among the former were some of the total-abstinence ad- 
vocates, notably the leading "fanatic" of the movement, a 
man whose name is still warmly remembered by his fellow- 
merchants and fellow-citizens of Cork, — William Martin. 



FATHER MATIIEW. 69 

Long had this sturdy "Quaker'' and his gallant band 
preached the new evangel of abstinence from alcohol ; but 
they felt that, though the Catholic masses around them re- 
spected them greatly and viewed them kindly, no one but a 
Catholic of influence and popularity could really give the 
movement headway among the people. One day while 
honest "Bill Martin" and Father Mathew were making 
their morning visitation of a hospital, the constantly-sug- 
gested theme of the miseries which drink brought on the 
people came uppermost. Mr. Martin, in a burst of passion- 
ate grief or invective, suddenly stopped and turned to his 
companion, exclaiming, "Oh, Theobald Mathew, Theobald 
Mathew, what thou couldst do if thou wouldst only take up 
this work of banishing the fiend that desolates the houses of 
thy people so ! " 

The young Capuchin seemed as if struck by some mys- 
terious power. He remained silent, walked moodily on till* 
he parted from his Quaker companion, then went home, 
pondering words which all that day and all through the night 
seemed still to ring in his ears : " Oh, Theobald Mathew, 
what thou couldst do if thou wouldst but take up this work ! " 

If there was one man in Cork city who pre-eminently had 
tried every other way of rescuing and uplifting the people, 
it was he. What had he not done, what had he not tried ? 
and yet did not this drink-curse start up at every turn to 
baffle and defeat his every endeavor ? 

But was not William Martin's scheme a mad and imprac- 
ticable idea ? Was it not already consigned to failure by the 
good-humored laughter of the city ? Could he indeed do 
what his friend believed ? 

For some days Father Mathew considered the whole sub- 
ject seriously. One morning, as he rose from his knees in 
his little oratory, he exclaimed aloud, "Here goes, in the 
name of God." * 

* This incident is rather differently narrated by the late Mr. Maguire, 
M.P., in his charming volume "Father Mathew: a Biography." I 
have preferred to give it as told to myself in early boyhood. 



70 NEW IRELAND. 

An hour afterward he was in the office of William Martin. 
"Friend William," said he, "I have come to tell you a 
piece of news. I mean to join your temperance society to- 
night." 

The honest-souled Quaker rushed over, flung his arms 
round the neck of that young Popish friar, kissed him like a 
child, and cried out, " Thank God ! thank God !" 

Thus entered Father Mathew on that work with which his 
name is so memorably associated ; thus began that wonderful 
moral revolution which was soon to startle the kingdom. 

The news that the popular young Capuchin had taken up 
with "the teetotal men" soon spread in Cork. All at once 
it set people thinking, for Father Mathew had always been 
especially practical, not visionary, in his schemes and efforts 
for social improvement and moral reform. Crowds came to 
hear what he might have to say on the subject. Before 
many weeks the enrollment of adherents attained considerable 
volume, and the direction of the work passed gradually into 
his own hands. Indeed he early decided, after consultation 
with the first friends of the movement, to establish an organi- 
zation, or rather an enrollment, under his own presidency, 
which he did on the 10th of April, 1838. 

The fame of his labors and of his success filled the city. 
Every street, every lane and alley, every large workshop, had 
its story of the marvelous change from misery and want to 
comfort and happiness wrought in some particular case by 
"joining Father Mathew." Every locality had its illustra- 
tion ; every one knew some wretched drunkard's home that 
had been converted, as if by the wand of a magician, into 
a scene of humble contentment and smiling plenty. The 
working classes seemed quite staggered by the indubitable 
proofs that not only could men live and move and have 
their being without John Barleycorn's aid, but that health, 
happiness, and prosperity seemed to be within the easy reach 
of all who shunned him. The crowds who had found these 
blessings under the temperance banner were imbued with a 



1 



FATHER MATIIEW. 71 

grateful enthusiasm. They shouted far and wide the story 
of their redemjition. They hurried to every sufferer with 
the tidings of hope and joy. Each convert became a fiery 
apostle in his own way, and before the second anniversary 
of Father Mathew's lifting of the standard had come round, 
he found himself at the head of a movement evidently des- 
tined to a great future. 

There can be no question that the temperance reformation 
of Father Mathew's time in Ireland was largely the outcome 
of an enthusiasm which could not altogether last. Its nov- 
elty was a great attraction. That is to say, men saw around 
them the rich fruits of a widely-embraced reform that had 
been preached and accepted among them for the first time. 
Not yet had reaction or reverse warned them that there was 
any but a bright side to the picture. Not yet had the terri- 
ble lesson been learned that "taking the pledge" did not 
settle the question for aye. As yet the vow retained its pris- 
tine force and solemnity. As yet the dispiriting and demoral- 
izing spectacle of thousands relapsing again and again had 
not overthrown popular confidence in the efficacy of the 
movement. 

The period between 1839 and 1845 beheld, however, its 
unchecked and unbroken triumph. The wonders that had 
been accomplished in Cork, of course, were noised through- 
out the neighboring counties ; invitations ' were pressed on 
Father Mathew by the local clergy, soliciting his presence so 
that the blessing which his work was diffusing might be 
shared by their people. 

It may be asked, Why should not these clergymen have 
themselves administered the total-abstinence pledge, as they 
might have done ? Why were Father Mathew's actual 
presence and personal advocacy so essential ? If pious and 
eloquent exhortation could prevail on men to join in a 
movement the good results of which were so startlingly de- 
monstrated, were there not hundreds of priests and laymen, 
eloquent and earnest, ready to spread the crusade ? 



72 NEW IBELAND. 

The truth is that much of Father Mathew's success wa 
owing to his marvelous personal influence — the almost magi- 
cal effect of his personal exhortations. Furthermore, the 
prestige of his name, and the eclat with which he was wel- 
comed in each locality, gave impression to his missionary! 
appearance and vastly increased his power. He was not! 
what would be called a great orator ; it was not what we 
know as eloquence that enabled him to bend to his will the 
multitudes that thronged around him. I was little more 
than twelve years of age when I first heard Father Mathew, 
and I can still remember the impressions then created. They 
were, I am confident, similar to the emotions experienced by 
most of those whose good fortune it was to have listened at 
anytime to the "Apostle of Temperance." I was moved 
not so much by his words as by some indescribable influence 
or charm which he seemed to exercise over his audience. 
His voice was exceedingly sweet and musical, and capable of 
great inflections. His features were pleasing and handsome, 
and when he smiled, sunshine diffused itself around. There 
was an air of dignity and tenderness indescribable about him, 
and the earnestness with which he spoke, the intense feel- 
ing he displayed, were irresistible. When such a man preached 
among a people so susceptible as the Celtic Irish a cause so 
just and holy, — preached it out of the fullness of a heart 
abounding with love for them, with compassion for their 
sorrows and solicitude for their happiness — who can wonder 
that the whole nation rose at his words as Christendom an- 
swered to the call of Peter the Hermit ? 

It was indeed a "crusade" Father Mathew preached. 
Whenever he visited a town or city, the population for a 
score of miles all round turned out en masse. At Limerick 
so vast was the assemblage that a troop of dragoons passing 
along the quay got "jammed" in the crowd, and were liter- 
ally pushed into the river by the surging of the multitude. 
Eailways were at the time scarcely known in Ireland, and 
Father Mathew traveled by the mail-coach, out of which 



FATHER MATHEW. 73 

circumstance a formidable State grievance arose. If the in- 
habitants of a town or village happened to hear that the 
famous Capuchin was a passenger, they waylaid the vehicle 
— "stopped her Majesty's mail," in fact — and refused to let 
it proceed till he had administered the pledge to them. 

It was a time when political feeling ran high and strong 
in Ireland. It was the period of O'ConnelPs Kepeal agita- 
tion and of all the accompanying excitement of that move- 
ment. Yet, strange to say, Orange and Green alike waved 
a greeting to Father Mathew ; Whig, Tory, and Eepealer 
sounded his praise ; and nowhere in all Ireland could he have 
received a welcome more cordial and enthusiastic than that 
which was extended to him, "Pojjish friar" as he was, by 
the Protestants of Ulster. He had been warned not to carry 
out his purpose of visiting that province ; the Orangemen, 
it was declared, could not stand the sight of a Catholic priest 
received with public festive display in their midst. What 
really happened was that the dreaded Orangemen came out 
in grand procession to join in the ovation. When Father 
Mathew saw their flags hung out at Cootehill on church and 
kirk, he rightly appreciated the spirit of the display, and 
called for " three cheers " for them ! A Catholic clergyman 
calling for a cordial salutation of the Orange banner, and a 
Catholic assemblage heartily responding, was something al- 
most inconceivable. It had never occurred before in Ireland ; 
I am afraid it has never occurred since. 

In 1843 he visited England, landing at Liverpool, and 
proceeding by way of Manchester, Huddersfield, Leeds, and 
York to London. At each of these places he remained a 
day or two, administering the pledge to tens of thousands. 
In London he was fated to encounter the only attempt ever 
made to offer him insult and violence. The publicans of 
the great metropolis were wroth with the audacity of this 
endeavor to bring the temperance movement to their doors. 
They determined to put Father Mathew down ; but they 
were too skillful to expose their real motive of opposition by 
4 



74 NEW IRELAND. 

openly raising the cry of " trade interests in danger." For 
weeks the tap-room loungers and beery roughs of the metrop- 
olis were harangued over the counter about the "Popish 
Irish priest " who was coming to overthrow their liberties. . 
The result was that, at more than one place in the city, on 
Father Mathew's appearance an infuriate rabble assailed the 
platform, compelling him to desist or else to administer the 
pledge under protection of the police. At Bermondsey the 
publicans' mob hooted and pelted him, and some of them 
were detected in an attempt secretly to cut the ropes of the 
platform-scaffolding. It was at the same place and on the 
same occasion, I believe, that they marched to interrupt him 
in a procession singularly, let me rather say disgracefully, 
equipped. The cohort of tap-room roughs were wreathed 
from head to foot in hop-leaves : each one bore a can of beer 
in one hand and a stave in the other. In this fashion they 
invaded the temperance meeting, whereupon, as might be 
expected, a violent conflict ensued, terminated only by the 
timely arrival of a strong body of police. 

Despite all such opposition, Father Mathew pursued his 
labors in London. He had the satisfaction, before leaving, 
of knowing that he had laid broad and deep the foundations 
of a great reformation among, at all events, his own fellow- 
countrymen and co-religionists in the great city. During 
his stay the most flattering attentions were poured upon 
him by the best and greatest men of England. The Protes- 
tant Bishop of Norwich invited him to visit that town and 
accept the hospitalities of the palace. Lord Stanhope pressed 
a like welcome to Chevening ; and at Lord Lansdowne's the 
"Irish Popish friar" received the cordial greetings of the 
Duke of Wellington, Lord Brougham, and many other nota- 
bilities. He did not relish this "lionizing," but he accepted 
these demonstrations as a valuable moral aid and encour- 
agement to his work. Mr. Maguire tells a story I had 
not heard before, which is quite characteristic of Father 
Mathew's simplicity. He was being taken in to dinner by 






FATHER MATHEW. 75 

some noble host in London, when he recognized in one of the 
attendant servants a man whom he had formerly known as 
a humble but devoted member of the temperance society in 
Cork city. Father Mathew rushed over to him, shook him 
heartily by the hand, and earnestly inquired after his wel- 
fare, above all whether he still was faithful to his "pledge." 
The honored guest of the evening claiming acquaintance in 
this way with one of the domestics must have sadly aston- 
ished some of the company. But Father Mathew saw only 
in poor James or Thomas " a man and a brother " in the 
ranks of the great cause. 

It may be estimated that in 1845 the temperance move- 
ment had attained to its topmost height in Ireland. What 
had it to show for itself ? What were its visible fruits by 
this time ? It is no exaggeration to say it had effected an 
astonishing transformation. It could not bring to Ireland 
that prosperity and wealth which flow from increased produc- 
tion or multiplied resources. The condition of the bulk of 
the population was at best, as the world soon afterward came 
to know, terribly precarious. But, subject to this reservation, 
it may be said that never had a people made within the same 
space of time such strides from hardship to comparative com- 
fort, from improvidence to thrift, from the crimes of inebriate 
passion to the ordered habits of sobriety and industry. I 
speak of what I saw. The temperance movement had not, I 
repeat, removed the deep-lying political causes of Irish pov- 
erty and crime ; but it brought to the humblest some ameli- 
oration of his lot ; it banished from thousands of homes 
afflictions that politics (as we use the phrase) could neither 
create nor cure ; it visibly diffused the feeling of self-respect 
and the virtue of self-reliance among the people. We all 
could note its influence, not only in their personal habits, 
but in their dress, in their manners, and in the greater neat- 
ness and tidiness of their homes. To this purport came tes- 
timony from every side. The magistracy and police told of 
crime greatly diminished. The clergy told of churches better 



76 NEW IRELAND. 

filled with sincere and earnest worshipers. Traders rejoiced 
to find how vast was the increase in popular expenditure on 
articles of food and clothing or of home or personal comfort. 
There is official evidence in abundance on the point. As 
early as 1840 the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, in a public 
letter, said, " To the benefit which the temperance pledge has 
conferred upon Ireland, in the improved habits of the people, 
and in the diminution of outrage, his Excellency bears grate- ' 
ful testimony." Like declarations might be cited from ex- 
ecutive officials throughout the later years up to 1845. The 
police returns for the period are equally striking ; but so 
many circumstances have to be weighed and calculated when 
considering the fluctuations in "criminal statistics" in Ire- 
land, that as a general rule I lay little stress on what they 
show. Still, it is rather convincing to find that the annual 
committals to prison in the seven years from 1839 to 1845, 
with a rapidly increasing population, show a steady decrease 
from twelve thousand to seven thousand ; that the capital 
sentences in each year declined gradually from sixty-six to 
fourteen ; and that the penal convictions sank from nine 
hundred in 1839 to five hundred in 1845. 

Of one interest in the country no doubt the movement 
made a wreck : the whisky trade was for the time almost an- 
nihilated. In this connection two remarkable facts deserve to 
be especially noted : first, that members of Father Mathew's 
own family were large distillers, and were among the first to 
suffer ruin by the success of his labors ; secondly, that from 
first to last no complaint, invective, or opposition ever was 
directed against Father Mathew by those of his countrymen 
whose fortunes he thus overwhelmed. Nay, among the 
warmest eulogies that cheered his career may be found the 
utterances of Irish manufacturers and venders of alcoholic 
drink. * 



* It is right to say that a like generous and unselfish spirit still 
exists among the same classes in many parts of Ireland. No men more 



FATHER MATHEW. 77 

But times of gloom and sorrow were now at hand for 
Father Mathew and for Ireland. Already a canker care 
was gnawing at that once light and joyous heart. Troubles 
and embarrassments, beneath which, alas ! he was eventually 
to sink, were secretly crushing the mind and energies of 
Father Mathew. Alone — single-handed — he had for seven 
years conducted a movement, had established, extended, and 
maintained an organization such as no managing executive in 
these days could work without enormous pecuniary resources ; 
and regular revenues for the purpose he had none whatever. 
He seemed to take little thought of the financial ways and 
means, but pushed on eagerly with the work, freely incur- 
ring all incidental obligations, and raising funds on his own 
responsibility as best he could. 

To each one of the hundreds of thousands to whom he 
administered the pledge an enrollment card and medal were 
given : in truth the people seemed to think it no binding 
vow without this visible token. Each member was supposed 
to pay a shilling for these symbols of enrollment ; but as a 
matter of fact not more than half the number so paid. On 
the contrary, too often so wretched was the plight of the hap- 
less victim of intemperance who knelt before him that Father 
Mathew's generous hand was outreached not only with a 
blessing but a dole. In 1845 he was in debt to medal man- 
ufacturers and others on behalf of the temperance movement 
some five thousand pounds. He had long groaned under the 
burden unknown to the world, unwilling, I believe, to dis- 
close the source on which he relied for sometime liquidating 
these claims. Lady Elizabeth Mathew, his earliest and most 
constant friend, had intimated to him her intention of be- 
queathing him a substantial token of her admiration for his 
work and esteem for himself. Like many another generous 
purpose of a similar character, this was doomed to be un- 

heartily praise the good effects of the voluntary "Sunday closing" 
adopted throughout Wexford than the licensed traders themselves, as 
a general rule, do in that county. 



78 NEW IRELAND. 

fulfilled. Death called too suddenly on the intending bene- 
factress, and Father Mathew found himself haunted by the 
tortures that dog the debtor's path. 

That the country would have freely come to his relief in 
this matter, as an obvious act of duty and of gratitude, surely 
cannot be doubted ; but coincidently with the revelation of 
his embarrassments came events that paralyzed the public 
mind. The famine, that stupendous calamity which no one 
can recall without a shudder, had burst on the hapless land. 
In the fierce struggle for existence, the desperate effort to 
save the people, every other public duty was suspended ; and 
Father Mathew's labors from 1846 to 1850 were one pro- 
longed combat with the terrible scourge that desolated the 
country. Bravely, uncomplainingly, unfalteringly, he worked 
on, amidst the wreck of every hope, the overthrow of all he 
loved and prized. In May, 1847, he was nominated by the 
clergy of Cork for the then vacant miter of that diocese ; but 
the choice was not confirmed at Rome, and a new disappoint- 
ment tried his sinking soul. In the same year the Govern- 
ment, aware of his embarrassed circumstances, bestowed on 
him a grant of three hundred pounds a year, which he forth- 
with devoted to paying for an insurance on his life to indem- 
nify his creditors. Mental and physical wear and tear such 
as he endured proved too much for even his once splendid 
constitution. In the spring of 1848 he was attacked by par- 
alysis, — an ominous premonition. Although he recovered 
in a few weeks, and in the following year visited America, 
where he remained till the close of 1851, he was never again 
the same man. In February, 1852, paralysis assailed him 
for the second time, and from that date forward all friends 
could see that active life for him was over. In October, 1854, 
he went to Madeira, and tried for a year what balm its breezes 
might bring. Next year he came home, and found, I verily 
believe, more solace and relief under the tender care and 
affectionate attentions of Protestant friends in Liverpool, 
Mr. and Mrs. Eathbone, than amidst the vineyards and 



FATHER MATEEW. 79 

orange groves of the sunny Southern isle. In 1856 he came, 
or rather was brought, to Queenstown. He himself by this 
time felt that the end was not afar off, and he fain would die 
amidst the familiar faces and scenes of home. On the 8th of 
December, 1856, a wail of sorrow in the crowded streets of 
Cork city told that one fondly loved, yea, idolized, by the 
people, was no more. Not Ireland alone, but all Christen- 
dom, mourned a true hero in " the Apostle of Temperance." 

I have said that the astonishing success of the temperance 
movement from 1838 to 1845 was largely the product of en- 
thusiasm, and was certain to be followed by a reaction. 
Even if no unusual misfortune had befallen, some such retro- 
cession would, I am confident, have been suffered, but noth- 
ing that would have seriously impaired the reformation which 
Father Mathew had wrought. Few words are needed to ex- 
plain how such an event as the famine wrecked this great 
work, as it did many another noble enterprise, moral and 
material, at the time. It was as if a great wave submerged 
the island, burying, obliterating, or sweeping away every- 
thing. When that fearful deluge subsided, and the moun- 
tain-tops began to reappear, a scene of utter desolation came 
to view. 

The circumstances under which the drink-curse arose anew 
among the Irish people are painfully reproachful to our law- 
makers and administrators. There were scores, probably 
hundreds, of districts in Ireland from which drink-shops had 
long totally disappeared ; and had there been at the time any 
statutable conservation of this " free-soil " area, three-fourths 
of Father Mathew's work would have endured to the present 
hour. But what happened within my own experience and ob- 
servation was this. When the Government relief works were 
set on foot all over the kingdom, close by every pay-office or 
depot there started into operation a meal-store and a whisky- 
shop ; nay, often the pay-clerks and road staff lodged in the 
latter and made it "headquarters." Only too well the 
wretched people knew what the fire-water would do for 



80 NEW IRELAND. 

them ; it would bring them oblivion or excitement, in which 
the horror and despair around them would be forgotten for 
a while. In many a tale of shipwreck we read with wonder 
that at the last dread moment the crew broached the spirit- 
casks and drank till delirium came. In Ireland the starving: 
people seemed possessed by some similar infatuation when 
once more the fatal lure was set up before them. In the 
track of the Government relief staff, and specially " licensed" 
by law, the drink-shops reappeared, and, to a large extent, 
reconquered what they had lost. Not wholly, however. 
There are thousands of men in Ireland to-day who "took 
the pledge from Father Mathew " and hold by it still. There 
are cities and towns in which the flag has never been hauled 
down, and where its adherents are now as numerous as ever. 
To the movement of Father Mathew is owing, moreover, 
that public opinion in favor of temperance effort, that par- 
liamentary vote in favor of temperance legislation, which 
Ireland has so notably and so steadily exhibited. The pure- 
souled and great-hearted Capuchin has not lived and labored 
in vain. 



CHAPTER VI. 

"THE BLACK FORTY-SEVEN"." 

There is probably no subject on which such painful mis- 
understanding and bitter recrimination have prevailed be- 
tween the peoples of England and Ireland as the Irish famine. 
The enmities and antagonisms arising out of other historical 
events were, at all events, comprehensible. The havoc and 
devastation which ensued upon the Eoyalist-Cromwellian 
war of 1641-1650, the confiscations and proscriptions which 
followed the Stuart struggle in 1690, the insurrection of 
1798, and the overthrow of the Irish constitution in 1800, 
were causes of ire, on the one side or the other, as to the 
reality of which there was at least no controversy. But it 
was not so in this case. The English people, remembering 
only the sympathy and compassion which they felt, the 
splendid contributions which they freely bestowed in that 
sad time, are shocked and angered beyond endurance when 
they hear Irishmen refer to the famine as a "slaughter." In 
Ireland, on the other hand, the burning memory of horrors 
which more prompt and competent action on the part of the 
ruling authorities might have considerably averted seems to 
overwhelm all other recollection, and the noble generosity 
of the English people appears to be forgotten in a frenzy of 
reproach against the English Government of that day. 

I know not whether the time has even yet arrived when 
that theme can be fairly treated, and when a calm and just 
apportionment of blame and merit may be attempted. To- 
day, full thirty years after the event, I tremble to contem- 
plate it. 

4* 81 



82 NEW IRELAND. 

In 1841 the population of Ireland was 8,175,124 souls. 
By 1845 it had probably reached to nearly nine millions. 
The increase had been fairly continuous for at least a century, 
and had become rapid between 1820 and 1840. To any one 
looking beneath the surface the condition of the country was 
painfully precarious. Nine millions of a population living 
at best in a light-hearted and hopeful hand-to-mouth con- 
tentment, totally dependent on the hazards of one crop, des- 
titute of manufacturing industries, and utterly without re- 
serve or resource to fall back upon in time of reverse, — what 
did all this mean but a state of things critical and alarming 
in the extreme ? Yet no one seemed conscious of danger. 
The potato crop had been abundant for four or five years, and 
respite from dearth and distress was comparative happiness 
and prosperity. Moreover, the temperance movement had 
come to make the "good times" still better. Everything 
looked bright. No one concerned himself to discover how 
slender and treacherous was the foundation for this general 
hopefulness and confidence. 

Yet signs of the coming storm had been given. Partial 
famine caused by failing harvests had indeed been intermit- 
tent in Ireland, and quite recently warnings that ought not 
to have been mistaken or neglected had given notice that the 
esculent which formed the sole dependence of the peasant 
millions was subject to some mysterious blight. In 1844 it 
was stricken in America, but in Ireland the yield was healthy 
and plentiful as ever. The harvest of 1845 promised to be 
the richest gathered for many years. Suddenly in one short 
month, in one week it might be said, the withering breath 
of a simoom seemed to sweep the land, blasting all in its path. 
I myself saw whole tracts of potato growth changed in one 
night from smiling luxuriance to a shriveled and blackened 
waste. A shout of alarm arose. But the buoyant nature of 
the Celtic peasant did not yet give way. The crop was so 
profuse that it was expected the healthy portion would reach 
an average result. Winter revealed the alarming fact that 



" THE BLACK FORTY-SEVEN." 83 

the tubers had rotted in pit and store-house. Nevertheless 
the farmers, like hapless men who double their stakes to 
recover losses, made only the more strenuous exertions to till 
a larger breadth in 1846. Although already feeling the pinch 
of sore distress, if not actual famine, they worked as if for 
dear life ; they begged and borrowed on any terms the means 
whereby to crop the land once more. The pawn-offices were 
choked with the humble finery that had shone at the village 
dance or christening-feast ; the banks and local money-lenders 
were besieged with appeals for credit. Meals were stinted, 
backs were bared. Anything, anything to tide over the 
interval to the harvest of "Forty-six." 

Oh, God, it is a dreadful thought that all this effort was 
but more surely leading them to ruin ! It was this harvest 
of Forty-six that sealed their doom. Not partially, but com- 
pletely, utterly, hopelessly, it perished. As in the previous 
year, all promised brightly up to the close of July. Then, 
suddenly, in a night, whole areas were blighted ; and this 
time, alas ! no portion of the crop escaped. A cry of agony 
and despair went up all over the land. The last desperate 
stake for life had been played, and all was lost. 

The doomed people realized but too well what was before 
them. Last year's premonitory sufferings had exhausted 
them ; and now ? — they must die ! 

My native district figures largely in the gloomy record of 
that dreadful time. I saw the horrible phantasmagoria — 
would God it were but that ! — pass before my eyes. Blank 
stolid dismay, a sort of stupor, fell upon the people, con- 
trasting remarkably with the fierce energy put forth a year 
before. It was no uncommon sight to see the cottier and his 
little family seated on the garden-fence gazing all day long 
in moody silence at the blighted plot that had been their last 
hope. Nothing could arouse them. You spoke ; they an- 
swered not. You tried to cheer them ; they shook their 
heads. I never saw so sudden and so terrible a transforma- 
tion. 



84 NEW IRELAND. 

When first in the autumn of 1845 the partial blight ap- 
peared, wise voices were raised in warning to the Govern- 
ment that a frightful catastrophe was at hand ; yet even then 
began that fatal circumlocution and inaptness which it mad- 
dens one to think of. It would be utter injustice to deny 
that the Government made exertions which judged by ordi- 
nary emergencies would be prompt and considerable. But 
judged by the awful magnitude of the evil then at hand or 
actually befallen, they were fatally tardy and inadequate. 
When at length the executive did hurry, the blunders of 
precipitancy outdid the disasters of excessive deliberation. 

In truth the Irish famine was one of those stupendous 
calamities which the rules and forniulaB of ordinary constitu- 
tional administration were unable to cope with, and which 
could be efficiently encountered only by the concentration 
of plenary powers and resources in some competent " des- 
potism " located in the scene of disaster. It was easy to 
foresee the result of an attempt to deal " at long range " with 
such an evil, — to manage it from Downing Street, London, 
according to orthodox routine. Again and again the Gov- 
ernment were warned, not by heedless orators or popular 
leaders, but by men of the highest position and soundest 
repute in Ireland, that, even with the very best intentions on 
their part, mistake and failure must abound in any attempt 
to grapple with the famine by the ordinary machinery of 
Government. Many efforts, bold and able efforts, were made 
by the Government and by Parliament eighteen months sub- 
sequently : I refer especially to the measures taken in the 
session of 1847. But, unfortunately, everything seemed to 
come too late. Delay made all the difference. In October, 
1845, the Irish Mansion House Relief Committee implored 
the Government to call Parliament together and throw open 
the ports. The Government refused. Again and again the 
terrible urgency of the case, the magnitude of the disaster at 
hand, was pressed on the executive. It was the obstinate 
refusal of Lord John Eussell to listen to these remonstrances 



'* THE BLACK FORTY-SEVEN." 85 

and entreaties, and the sad verification subsequently of these 
apprehensions, that implanted in the Irish mind the bitter 
memories which still occasionally find vent in passionate 
accusation of "England." 

Not but that the Government had many and weighty ar- 
guments in behalf of the course they took. First, they 
feared exaggeration, and waited for official investigation and 
report.* Even when official testimony was forthcoming, 
the Cabinet in London erred, as the Irish peasantry did, in 
trusting somewhat that the harvest of 184G would change 
gloom to joy. When the worst came in 184G-47, much 
precious time was lost through misunderstanding and re- 
crimination between the Irish landlords and the executive, 
— charges of neglect of duties on one hand, and of incapac- 
ity on the other, passing freely to and fro. No doubt the 
Government feared waste, prodigality, and abuse if it placed 
absolute power and unlimited supplies in the hands of an 
Irish board; and one must allow that, to a commercial- 
minded people, the violations of the doctrines of political 
economy involved in every suggestion and demand shouted 
across the Channel from Ireland were very alarming. Yet 

* The truth is, the fight over the Corn Law question in England at 
the time was peculiarly unfortunate for Ireland ; because the protec- 
tionist press and politicians felt it a duty strenuously to deny there 
was any danger of famine, lest such a circumstance should he made a 
pretest for Free Trade. Thus, the Duke of Richmond, on the 9th of 
December, 1845, speaking at the Agricultural Protection Society, said, 
"With respect to the cry of 'Famine,' he believed that it was per- 
fectly illusory, and no man of respectability could have put it in good 
faith if he had been acquainted with the facts within the knowledge 
of their society." 

At Warwick, on the 31st of December, Mr. Newdegate carried a res- 
olution testifying against " the fallacy and mischief of the reports of a 
deficient harvest," and affirming that "there was no reasonable ground 
for apprehending a scarcity of food." 

Like declarations abounded in England up to a late period of the 
famine, and, no doubt, considerably retarded the prompt action of the 
Government. 



86 NEW IRELAND. 

in the end it was found — all too late, unfortunately — that 
those doctrines were inapplicable in such a case. They had 
to be flung aside in 1847. Had they been discarded a year or 
two sooner, a million of lives might have been saved. 

The situation bristled with difficulties. "Do not demor- 
alize the people by pauper doles, but give them employ- 
ment," said one counselor. "Beware how you interfere 
with the labor-market," answered another. "It is no use 
voting millions to be paid away on relief works while you 
allow the price of food to be run up four hundred per cent. ; 
set up Government depots for sale of food at reasonable 
price," cried many wise and far-seeing men. "Utterly op- 
posed to the teachings of Adam Smith," responded Lord 
John Eussell. 

At first the establishment of public soup-kitchens under 
local relief committees, subsidized by Government, was relied 
upon to arrest the famine. I doubt if the world ever saw so 
huge a demoralization, so great a degradation, visited upon 
a once high-spirited and sensitive people. All over the 
country large iron boilers were set up in which what was 
called "soup" was concocted, — later on, Indian-meal stira- 
bout was boiled. Around these boilers on the roadside there 
daily moaned and shrieked and fought and scuffled crowds 
of gaunt, cadaverous creatures that once had been men and 
women made in the image of God. The feeding of dogs in 
a kennel was far more decent and orderly. I once thought 
— ay, and often bitterly said, in public and in private — that 
never, never would our people recover the shameful humili- 
ation of that brutal public soup-boiler scheme. I frequently 
stood and watched the scene till tears blinded me and I al- 
most choked with grief and passion. It was heart-breaking, 
almost maddening, to see ; but help for it there was none. 

The Irish poor-law system early broke down under the 
strain which the famine imposed. Until 1846 the work- 
houses were shunned and detested by the Irish poor. Eelief 
of destitution had always been regarded by the Irish as a 



" THE BLACK FORTY-SEVEN." 87 

^ sort of religious duty or fraternal succor. Poverty was a 
'^ misfortune, not a crime. When, however, relief was offered, 
°r on the penal condition of an imprisonment that sundered 
the family tie, and which, by destroying home, howsoever 
f" humble, shut out all hope of future recovery, it was indig- 
nantly spurned. Scores of times I have seen some poor 
8 widow before the workhouse board clasp her little children 
'tightly to her heart and sob aloud, " No, no, your honor. 
If they are to be parted from me, I'll not come in. I'll beg 
the wide world with them." 

But soon beneath the devouring pangs of starvation even 
this holy affection had to give way, and the famishing 
people poured into the workhouses, which soon choked with 
the dying and the dead. Such privations had been endured 
in every case before this hated ordeal was faced, that the 
people entered the Bastile merely to die. The parting 
scenes of husband and wife, father and mother and children, 
at the board-room door would melt a heart of stone. Too 
well they felt it was to be an eternal severance, and that this 
loving embrace was to be their last on earth. The warders 
tore them asunder, — the husband from the wife, the mother 
from the child, — for " discipline " required that it should 
be so. But, with the famine-fever in every ward, and the 
air around them laden with disease and death, they knew 
their fate, and parted like victims at the foot of the guillo- 
tine. 

It was not long until the workhouses overflowed and could 
admit no more. Eapidly as the death-rate made vacancies, 
the pressure of applicants overpowered all resources. Worse 
still, bankruptcy came on many a union. In some the poor- 
rate rose to twenty-two shillings on the pound, and very 
nearly the entire rural population of several were needing 
relief. In a few cases, I am sorry to say, the horrible idea 
seemed to seize the land-owners on the boards that all rates 
would be ineffectual, and that, as their imposition would 
result only in ruining ''property," it was as well to "let 



88 NEW IRELAND. 

tilings take their course." Happily an act of Parliamen 
was passed in 1846 which gave the poor-law commissioner: 
in Dublin power to deal with cases of delay or refusal tc 
make adequate provision for maintenance of the workhouse. 
All such boards were abolished by sealed order, and paid 
vice-guardians were appointed in their place. To these, as 
well as to elected boards willing to face their duty, the com 
missioners were empowered to advance, by way of loan, .se-Jm 
cured on the lands within the union, funds sufficient to.|» 
carry on the poor-law system. Had it not been for this 
arrangement, the workhouses would have closed altogether 
in many parts of the country. 

The conduct of the Irish landlords throughout the famine- 
period has been variously described, and has been, I believe, 
generally condemned. I consider the censure visited on 
them too sweeping. I hold it to be in some respects cruelly 
unjust. On many of them no blame too heavy could possibly 
fall. A large number were permanent absentees ; their ranks 
were swelled by several who early fled the post of duty at 
home, — cowardly and selfish deserters of a brave and faithful 
people. Of those who remained, some may have grown 
callous : it is impossible to contest authentic instances of 
brutal heartlessness here and there. But, granting all that 
has to be entered on the dark debtor side, the overwhelming 
balance is the other way. The bulk of the resident Irish 
landlords manfully did their best in that dread hour.* If 
they did too little compared with what the landlord class in 
England would have done in similar case, it was because 
little was in their power. The famine found most of the 

* No adequate tribute has ever been paid to the memory of those 
Irish landlords — and they were men of every party and creed — who 
perished martyrs to duty in that awful time ; who did not fly the 
plague-reeking workhouse or fever-tainted court. Their names would 
make a goodly roll of honor. The people of Bantry still mourn for 
Mr. Eichard White, of Inchiclogh, cousin of Lord Bantry, who early 
fell in this way. Mr. Martin, M. P., — " Dick Martin," Prince of Con- 



" THE BLACK FORTY-SEVEN." 89 

President landed gentry of Ireland on the brink of ruin. They 
wwere heritors of estates heavily overweighted with the debts 
to of a bygone generation. Broad lands and lordly mansions 
were held by them on settlements and conditions that 
allowed small scope for the exercise of individual liberality. 
To these landowners the failure of one year's rental receipts 
meant mortgage-foreclosure and hopeless ruin. Yet cases 
might be named by the score in which such men scorned to 
avert by pressure on their suffering tenantry the fate they 
saw impending over them. They "went down with the 
ship." 

In the autumn of 1846 relief works were set on foot, the 
Government having received parliamentary authority to 
grant baronial loans for such undertakings. There might 
have been found many ways of applying these funds in repro- 
ductive employment, but the modes decided on were drain- 
ing and road-making. Of course it was not possible to pro- 
vide very rapidly the engineering staff requisite for surveying 
and laying out so many thousands of new roads all over the 
country ; but eventually the scheme was somehow hurried 
into operation. The result was in every sense deplorable 
failure. The wretched people were by this time too wasted 
and emaciated to work. The endeavor to do so under an 
inclement winter sky only hastened death. They tottered 
at daybreak to the roll-call, vainly tried to wheel the bar- 
row or ply the pick, but fainted away on the " cutting," or 
lay down on the wayside to rise no more. As for the " roads " 
on which so much money was wasted, and on which so many 
lives were sacrificed, hardly any of them were finished. 
Miles of grass-grown earthworks throughout the country 

nemara, — caught fever while acting as a magistrate, and was swept 
away. One of the most touching stories I ever heard was that told 
me by an eye-witness of how Mr. Nolan, of Ballinderry (father of 
Captain J. P. Nolan, M. P.), braving the deadly typhus in Tuani 
workhouse, was struck down, amidst the grief of a people who mourn 
him to this day. 



90 NEW IRELAND. 

now mark their course and commemorate for posterity onet & 
of the gigantic blunders of the famine-time. 

The first remarkable sign of the havoc which death was 
making was the decline and disappearance of funerals. 
Among the Irish people a funeral was always a great dis- 
play, and participation in the procession was for all neigh- 
bors and friends a sacred duty. A " poor " funeral— that 
is, one thinly attended — was considered disrespectful to the 
deceased and reproachful to the living. The humblest peas- 
ant was borne to the grave by a parochial cortege. But one 
could observe in the summer of '46 that, as funerals became 
more frequent, there was a rapid decline in the number of 
attendants, until at length persons were stopped on the road 
and requested to assist in conveying the coffin a little way 
farther. Soon, alas ! neither coffin nor shroud could be 
supplied. Daily in the street and on the footway some poor 
creature lay down as if to sleep, and presently was stiff and 
stark. In our district it was a common occurrence to find 
on opening the front door in early morning, leaning against 
it, the corpse of some victim who in the night-time had 
"rested" in its shelter. We raised a public subscription, 
and employed two men with horse and cart to go round each 
day and gather up the dead. One by one they were taken 
to a great pit at Ardnabrahair Abbey, and dropped through 
the hinged bottom of a "trap-coffin " into a common grave 
below. In the remoter rural districts even this rude sepul- 
ture was impossible. In the field and by the ditch-side the 
victims lay as they fell, till some charitable hand was found 
to cover them with the adjacent soil. 

It was the fever which supervened on the famine that 
wrought the greatest slaughter and spread the greatest terror. 
For this destroyer when it came spared no class, rich or poor. 
As long as it was " the hunger " alone that raged, it was no 
deadly peril to visit the sufferers ; but not so now. To come 
within the reach of this contagion was certain death. Whole 
families perished unvisited and unassisted. By leveling 



" TEE BLACK FORTY-SEVEN." 91 

,bove their corpses the sheeling in which they died, the 
leighbors gave them a grave.* 

No pen can trace nor tongue relate the countless deeds of 

leroism and self-sacrifice which this dreadful visitation 

;alled forth on the part, pre-eminently, of two classes in 

;he community, — the Catholic clergy and the dispensary 

loctors of Ireland. I have named the Catholic clergy, not 

;hat those of the Protestant denominations did not furnish 

many instances of devotion fully as striking, f but because 

an the former obviously fell the brunt of the trial. For 

fchem there was no flinching. A call to administer the last 

rites of religion to the inmate of a plague- ward or fever-shed 

must be, and is, obeyed by the Catholic priest, though death 

to himself be the Avell-known consequence. The fatality 

among the two classes I have mentioned, clergymen and 

doctors, was lamentable. Christian heroes, martyrs for 

humanity, their names are blazoned on no courtly roll ; yet 

shall they shine upon an eternal page, brighter than the 

stars ! 



*I myself assisted in such a task, under heart-rending circum- 
stances, in June, 1847. 

f The Protestant curate of my native parish in 1847 was the Rev. 
Alexander Ben Hallowell, subsequently rector of Clonakilty, and now 
I believe residing somewhere in Lancashire. There were compara- 
tively few of his own flock in a way to suffer from the famine ; but 
he dared death daily in his desperate efforts to save the perishing 
creatures around him. A poor hunchback named Richard O'Brien 
lay dying of the plague in a deserted hovel at a place called "the 
Custom Gap." Mr. Hallowell, passing by, heard the moans, and went 
in. A shocking sight met his view. On some rotten straw in a dark 
corner lay poor " Dick," naked, except for a few rags across his body. 
Mr. Hallowell rushed to the door and saw a young friend on the road. 
"Run, run with this shilling and buy me some wine," he cried. Then 
he re-entered the hovel, stripped off his own clothes, and with his 
own hands put upon the plague-stricken hunchback the flannel vest 
and drawers and the shirt of which he had just divested himself. I 
know this to be true. I was the ' ' young friend " who went for and 
brought the wine. 



92 NEW IRELAND. 

But even this dark cloud of the Irish famine had its silvei | isii 
lining. If it is painful to recall the disastrous errors ol |« 
irresolution and panic, one can linger gratefully over memo- j g 
ries of Samaritan philanthropy, of efficacious generosity, jj # 
of tenderest sympathy. The people of England behavedJcf 
nobly ; and assuredly not less munificent were the citizens \ 
of the great American Eepublic, which had already become 
the home of thousands of the Irish race. From every con- 
siderable town in England there poured subscriptions, 
amounting in the aggregate to hundreds of thousands of 
pounds. From America came a truly touching demonstra- 
tion of national sympathy. Some citizens of the States i 
contributed two ship-loads of breadstuffs, and the American 
Government decided to furnish the ships which should 
bring the offering to the Irish shore. Accordingly, two war- 
vessels, the "Macedonian" and the "Jamestown" frigates, 
having had their armaments removed, their "gun-decks" 
displaced and cargo bulkheads put up, were filled to the 
gunwale with best American flour and biscuits, and dis- 
patched on their errand of mercy. It happened that just 
previously the British naval authorities had rather strictly 
refused the loan of a ship for a like purpose, as being quite 
opposed to all departmental regulations (which, to be sure, 
it was), and a good deal of angry feeling was called forth by 
the refusal. Yet had it a requiting contrast in the dispatch 
from England, by voluntary associations there, of several 
deputations or embassies of succor, charged to visit person- 
ally the districts in Ireland most severely afflicted, and to dis- 
tribute with their own hands the benefactions they wrought. 

Foremost in this blessed work were the Society of Friends, 
the English members of that body co-operating with its cen- 
tral committee in Dublin. Among the most active and fear- 
less of their representatives was a young Yorkshire Quaker, 
whose name, I doubt not, is still warmly remembered by 
Connemara peasants. He drove from village to village, he 
walked bog and moor, rowed the lake and climbed the moun- 



"THE BLACK FORTY-SEVEN." 93 

lTe lin, fought death, as it were, hand to hand, in brave reso- 
-° ition to save the people. His correspondence from the 
lm Dene of his labors would constitute in itself a graphic memo- 
"31 ial of the Irish famine. That young "Yorkshire Quaker" 
re l f 1847 was destined a quarter of a century later to be known 
il! o the empire as a minister of the Crown — the Eight Hon. 
^N. E. Forster, M.P. 

^ In truth, until the appearance a few years' since of the 
8ev. Mr. O'Rorke's excellent volume, the "History of the 
Irish Famine," the only competent record of the events of 
;hat time was the " Report of the Society of Friends' Irish 
Relief Committee." It is a remarkable fact that the traveler 
who now visits the west and south of Ireland, and seeks to 
gather from the people reminiscences of the famine-time, 
will find praise and blame a good deal mingled as to nearly 
very other relief agency of the period, but naught save 
grateful recollection of the unostentatious, kindly, prompt, 
generous, and efficacious action of the Friends' committee. 
Fondly as the Catholic Irish revere the memory of their own 
priests who suffered with and died for them in that fearful 
time, they give a place in their prayers to the "good Qua- 
kers, God bless them," Jonathan Pirn, Richard Allen, Rich- 
ard Webb, and William Edward Forster. 

The Irish famine of 1847 had results, social and political, 
that constitute it one of the most important events in Irish 
history for more than two hundred years. It is impossible 
for any one who knew the country previous to that period, 
and who has thoughtfully studied it since, to avoid the con- 
clusion that so much has been destroyed, or so greatly 
changed, that the Ireland of old times will be seen no more. 
The losses will, I would fain hope, be in a great degree re- 
paired, the gains entirely retained. Yet much that was 
precious was engulfed, I fear, beyond recovery. " Here are 
twenty miles of country, sir," said a dispensary doctor to me, 
" and before the famine there was not a padlock from end to 
end of it." Under the pressure of hunger, ravenous crea- 



94 NEW IRELAND. 

tures prowled around barn and store-house, stealing corn, 
potatoes, cabbage, turnips — anything, in a word, that miglrll 
be eaten. Later on, the fields had to be watched, gun in 
hand, or the seed was rooted up and devoured raw. This 
state of things struck a fatal blow at some of the most 
beautiful traits of Irish rural life. It destroyed the simple 
confidence that bolted no door ; it banished forever a custom 
which throughout the island was of almost universal obliga- 
tion — the housing for the night, with cheerful welcome, of 
any poor wayfarer who claimed hospitality. Fear of "the* 
fever," even where no apprehension of robbery was enter- 
tained, closed every door, and the custom, once killed off, 
has not revived. A thousand kindly usages and neighborly 
courtesies were swept away. When sauve qui pent has re- 
sounded throughout a country for three years of alarm and! 
disaster, human nature becomes contracted in its sympathies, , 
and "every one for himself" becomes a maxim of life and 
conduct long after. The open-handed, open-hearted ways 
of the rural population have been visibly affected by the; 
"Forty-seven" ordeal. Their ancient sports and pastimes: 
everywhere disappeared, and in many parts of Ireland have 
never returned. The out-door games, the hurling-match, 
and the village dance are seen no more. 

With the greater seriousness of character which the fam- 
ine-period has imprinted on the Irish people, some notable 
changes for the better must be recognized. Providence, fore- 
thought, economy, are studied and valued as they never 
were before. There is more method, strictness, and punctu- 
ality in business transactions. There is a graver sense of 
responsibility on all hands. For the first time the future 
seems to be earnestly thought of, and its possible vicissitudes 
kept in view. More steadiness of purpose, more firmness and 
determination of character, mark the Irish peasantry of the 
new era. God has willed that in the midst of such awful 
sufferings some share of blessings should fall on the sorely- 
shattered nation. 



CHAPTER VII. 

"YOUNG IRELAND." 

Fletcher of Saltoun is credited with the saying, "Let 
me make the ballads, and let whoso will make the laws." 
No doubt it was through ballads popular feeling was moved 
and developed in those days. If Fletcher lived now, he 
would say, "Let me use the printing-press, and let who 
pleases be premier." 

Whoever attentively studies the changes in Irish political 
life — in its modes of thought and action — within the past 
forty years, must assign an important place among the fac- 
tors in those changes to that school of politician-litterateurs 
known as "Young Ireland." Their name and fate as a 
party are, unfortunately for them, so generally associated 
with one disastrous incident of their political career — the 
insurrectionary attempt of 1848 — that an erroneous idea is 
acquired of their real status, aims, and policy ; an unjust 
estimate is formed of their labors. 

" Young Ireland," so called, was a section or offshoot of 
O'Connell's Repeal party, the latter being antithetically des- 
ignated "Old Ireland." "Young" and "Old," however, 
they were alike Repealers ; that is, their great political ob- 
ject, the cardinal doctrine of their creed, was the reposses- 
sion by Ireland of the native legislature wrenched from her 
by Pitt in 1800. But many notable circumstances marked 
the Young Irelanders as a totally new school in Irish poli- 
tics. They first, within our generation, essayed as a party 
the task of purifying the political atmosphere, of rendering 
Irish parliamentary action something better and nobler than 

95 



96 NEW IRELAND. 

a venal scramble for place, or an abject servitude of faction. I 
They first taught the doctrine that the people should be ap- 1 
pealed to in their intelligence rather than impelled through J 
their prejudices. They boldly proclaimed that individual 1 .] 
responsibility and self-reliance should take the place of utter 
dependence on leaders, lay or clerical. They first seized 
upon the printing-press and the school as the great agencies 
of popular enfranchisement. The motto on their banner 
epitomized their creed and indicated the means and end of 
their policy : "Educate that you may be free." 

Forty years ago the typical Irish representative was still 
in a large degree the swaggering, horse-racing, duel-fighting, 
hard-drinking, spendthrift style of patriot portrayed by the 
pen of Charles Lever. The time had not yet come when 
personal integrity and purity of private life and character 
were weighed in estimating a man's title to public confidence 
and esteem. The "popular member" in those days was 
returned by a combination of patriotic enthusiasm and re- 
ligious influence, supplemented by the necessary amount of 
bribery and intimidation. As to these, " the other side be- 
gan first " of course ; and then the distribution of five-pound 
notes and whisky ad libitum on the one hand, and the 
breaking of skulls with shillelaghs on the other, completed 
the popular victory. Moreover, the "patronage" custom- 
arily vested in a member of Parliament at the time was ex- 
tensive in small things. The post-office and the revenue, 
the army and the navy, were, to a great extent, the spoil of 
party. The minister flung patronage to his lobby adherents ; 
and these shared or dispensed it among their hustings' par- 
tisans. Political independence, as we understand it, was 
unknown. The schools had not yet sent forth their youth- 
ful battalions ; the newspaper was an expensive luxury. 
The reading-room and mechanics' institute were not yet 
born. The lecture was unknown. Yet in all respects it 
may be said that things were "on the turn," when an event 
in 1842 ushered in a new era. 



"YOUNG IRELAND." 97 

The Kepeal Association of O'Connell was worked in large 
part by his "Old Guard" of the Catholic Emancipation 
campaign, — men who were, more or less, of the old school. 
But the movement early attracted to it some of the most 
gifted and brilliant of the young men who were just then 
emerging from college and university life into the bustle and 
activity of an exciting time in public affairs. Affinity of 
tastes, college companionship, community of feeling, brought 
these youthful Eepealers together as a distinct "set" or sec- 
tion in the association. Their minds were fresh from the 
study of classic models in civic virtue, in love of country, 
in public heroism. They became inspired with the great 
ambition of giving a new character, a purer tone, and a 
bolder direction to the national movement. 

Three of these young men — Charles Gavan Duffy, Thomas 
Osborne Davis, and John Blake Dillon — were strolling in the 
Phcenix Park one fine summer evening in 1842. They dis- 
cussed the prospects of the Repeal cause and the caliber of 
the men directing it, the newspaper press, such as it was, 
and O'ConnelPs relations with that section of it which sup- 
ported the association. They complained that there was no 
attempt at the intellectual development or political educa- 
tion of the popular mind, and dwelt upon the fact that in a 
few years more the public schools would be sending forth 
some tens of thousands of young people able to read and 
write. They debated the great question, " What was to be 
done ? " They answered that question by agreeing that the 
first thing necessary was to start a weekly newspaper as the 
exponent and policy of a new school of politics. Duffy was 
already a journalist. Though young in years, he filled an 
honorable place in public confidence as editor of the Belfast 
Vindicator. He was the man to whom they looked to play 
the leading part in this ambitious scheme. Seated under a 
tree in the Phoenix Park, the three friends decided to start 
the Nation newspaper, which issued its first number on the 
15th of October, 1842. 
5 



98 NEW IRELAND. 

The journal thus founded was destined to play an impor- 
tant part in the subsequent political history of Ireland. It 
was not a newspaper so much as a great popular educator, a 
counselor and guide. Its office was a sort of bureau of na- 
tional affairs, political, literary, industrial, and artistic. Its 
editorial room was the rendezvous of the " youthful enthu- 
siasts," as the old-school politicians called them, — orators, 
poets, writers, artists. In the pages of the Nation fervid 
prose and thrilling verse, literary essay and historical ballad, 
were all pressed into the service of Irish nationality. The 
effect was beyond all anticipation. The country seemed to 
awaken to a new life ; "a soul had come into Erin." 

Emboldened by the success of this first overt act, they 
struck out into other fields of labor, and determined to sup- 
ply Ireland with a cheap popular literature, at once enter- 
taining and educational. "Duffy's Library of Ireland," a 
monthly issue of shilling volumes, was the result. Even if 
they had done no more, this would be no unworthy monu- 
ment of their zeal for the moral and intellectual as well as 
the political education of the people. 

They were pre-eminently the party of religious tolerance. 
The leading idea in what may be called their home policy 
was to break down the antagonism between Catholics and 
Protestants in Ireland. In this they were long before their 
time. The experiment, however, was bravely tried. In 
many a song and many an essay they preached the union of 
classes and creeds. 

" What matter that at different shrines 

We pray unto one God ? 
What matter that at different times 

Our fathers won this sod ? 
In fortune and in name we're bound 

By stronger links than steel ; 
And neither can be safe or sound 

But in the other's weal. 

****** 



"YOUNG IRELAND." 99 

" And oh, it were a gallant deed 

To show before mankind 
How every race and every creed 

Might be by love combined, — 
Might be combined, yet not forget 

The fountains whence they rose, 
As fill'd by many a rivulet 

The stately Shannon flows." 

Thus pleaded Davis in the Nation. More boldly still he 
addressed himself to his fellow-Protestants of Ulster, — the 
Orangemen of the North : 

"Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed, 
William and James are turn'd to clay ; 
Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed ; 
Red was the crop and bitter the pay. 

Freedom fled us ; 

Knaves misled us ; 
Under the feet of the foemen we lay ; 

But in their spite 

The Irish unite, 
For Orange and Green will carry the day." 

All in vain. As remote as the millennium seemed the 
day when Orange and Green would cease to wave over op- 
posing hosts arrayed in deadly hate and fiercest hostility. 

Meantime, with a vigor that quite astonished observers, 
the Young Irelanders addressed themselves to the equally 
formidable task of reforming certain of the ideas and usages 
of Irish politics. They execrated place-begging, denied that 
" good appointments for Catholics " should be considered the 
showering of blessings on Ireland, and denounced the prac- 
tice of "popular members" of shady character presenting 
stained-glass windows and altar-gongs to the Catholic chapels 
whenever a general election was at hand. Above all, they 
dared to say that the traffic in tidewaiterships and postmas- 
terships and treasury-clerkships was demoralizing, and should 
be put down. It was little less than a revolution these men 



100 NEW IRELAND. 

attempted in the whole system of Irish politics. O'Connell 
himself they greatly revered : they accepted his policy, were 
loyal to his authority, were grateful for his services. But 
they waged unconcealed war with the class of men who, in a 
great degree, surrounded him, and with the low tone of pub- ■ 
lie morality which then seemed prevalent. The regenerated 
Ireland of their dreams was not to arise under such influences 
as these. They preached the need of better men and a bolder 
policy, and strongly impressed on the people that if they 
valued national liberty they must cultivate the virtues with- 
out which such a blessing would fly their grasp. 

" For Freedom comes from God's right hand, 
And needs a godly train : 
"lis righteous men can make our land 
A Nation once again." 

So sang the bard of the party. So spoke all its orators. 

Such was Young Ireland in its early career. Of the men 
who founded or constituted that party more than thirty years 
ago few now survive. Nearly all have passed away ; and 

" Their graves are sever'd far and wide 
By mountain, stream, and sea." 

Duffy — now Sir Charles Gavan Duffy, of Melbourne — has 
been Prime Minister of Victoria, and is perhaps the ablest 
and most statesmanlike man at present in public life at the 
antipodes. Darcy McGee, foully slain by an assassin's bullet 
at Ottawa in 1868, had also won, as a minister of the Crown in 
the free self-governed Dominion of Canada, a notable recog- 
nition of his splendid abilities. Meagher, the silver-tongued 
orator of Young Ireland, after a career full of vicissitudes, 
was United States Governor of Montana Territory when he 
accidentally perished in the rapids of the Missouri. Davis 
died early, yet not before he had filled Ireland with admira- 
tion for his genius and love for his virtues. Dillon died in 
1866, member of Parliament for Tipperary County. Martin 



" YOUNG IRELAND." 101 

and Eonayne are recent losses, having fallen in harness as 
parliamentary representatives. Mitchel irreconcilable and 
defiant to the last, returned to Ireland in 1875, and died 
"in the arms of victory" as "member for Tipperary." 
O'Brien, the leader of the party, sleeps in the family mauso- 
leum at Eathronan ; but on the most prominent site in the 
Irish metropolis his countrymen have raised a noble statue 
to perpetuate his memory. Eichard O'Gorman enjoys in 
New York fame and fortune honorably achieved in the land 
of his adoption. Kevin Izod O'Doherty is now a prominent 
member of the Queensland legislature. Michael Doheny, a 
man of rare gifts as a writer and speaker, died sadly in New 
York. Eichard Dalton Williams, the gentle bard of many 
an exquisite lay, reposes in a distant Louisiana grave. Denny 
Lane, poet and politician, happily still thinks and feels for 
Ireland in his pleasant home by the Lee. Besides these there 
might be named a goodly company of the less political and 
more literary type : John O'Hagan, now judge of a county 
court in Ireland ; Samuel Ferguson, now Deputy Keeper of 
the Eolls ; Denis Florence MacCarthy, D. MacNevin, Eev. 
Charles Meehan, John Edward Pigott, Michael J. Barry, 
James Clarence Mangan, and John Kells Ingram, LL.D., 
now a fellow of Trinity College, whose famous lyric, " Who 
fears to speak of Ninety-eight ? " is the best known of all 
the seditious poetry of Young Ireland. 

But the roll were incomplete indeed if from it were omit- 
ted three women who gave to Irish national poetry of the 
Young Ireland era its most striking characteristics : " Eva," 
" Mary," and " Speranza." 

Eva Mary Kelly was the daughter of a County Galway 
gentleman, and could have been little more than a girl 
when the contributions bearing her pseudonym began to 
attract attention. A good idea of the Young Ireland poetry 
— at. all events of the Young Ireland poetesses — maybe gath- 
ered from one of her early contributions, — "The People's 
Chief : " 



102 NEW IRELAND. 

" The storms of enfranchised passions rise as the voice of the eagle 

screaming, 
And we scatter now to the earth's four winds the memory of our 

dreaming ! 
The clouds but vail the lightning's bolt,— Sibylline murmurs ring 
In hollow tones from out the depths : the People seek their King ! 

" Come forth, come forth, Anointed One ! nor blazon nor honors bear- 
ing; 
No ' ancient line ' be thy seal or sign, the crown of Humanity wear- 
ing ; 
Spring out, as lucent fountains spring, exulting from the ground — 
Arise as Adam rose from God, with strength and knowledge crown'd ! 

" The leader of the world's wide host guiding our aspirations, 
Wear thou the seamless garb of Truth sitting among the nations ! 
Thy foot is on the empty forms around in shivers cast : 
We crush ye with the scorn of scorn, exuviae of the past I 

" Come forth, come forth, O Man of men ! to the cry of the gathering 

nations ; 
We watch on tower, we watch on the hill, pouring our invocations ; 
Our souls are sick of sounds and shades that mock our shame and 

grief, 
We hurl the Dagons from their seats, and call the lawful Chief ! 

" Come forth, come forth, O Man of men I to the frenzy of our im- 
ploring, 
The wing'd despair that no man can bear, up to the heavens soaring ; 
Come Faith and Hope, and Love and Trust, upon their center rock, 
The wailing millions summon thee, amid the earthquake shock I 

" We've kept the weary watch of years, with a wild and heart-wrung 

yearning, 
But the star of the Advent we sought in vain, calmly and purely 

burning ; 
False meteors flash'd across the sky, and falsely led us on ; 
The parting of the strife is come, — the spell is o'er and gone ! 

" The future's closed gates are now on their ponderous hinges jarring, 
And there comes a sound as of winds and waves each with the other 

warring, 
And forward bends the listening world, as to their eager ken 
From out that dark and mystic land appears the Man of men I " 



YOUNG IRELAND." 103 



Kevin O'Doherty (already mentioned) was at this time a 
young medical student in Dublin. From admiring " Eva's" 
poetry, he took to admiring — that is, loving — herself. The 
outbreak of 1848, however, brought a rude interruption to 
Kevin's suit. He was writing unmistakably seditious prose 
while " Eva " was assailing the constituted authorities in 
rebel verse. Kevin was arrested and brought to trial. Twice 
the jury disagreed. The day before his third arraignment 
he was offered a virtual pardon — a merely nominal sentence 
— if he would plead guilty. He sent for Eva, and told her 
of the proposition. "It may seem as if I did not feel the 
certainty of losing you, perhaps forever," said he ; " but I 
don't like this idea of pleading guilty. Say, what shall I 
do ? " " Do ?" answered the poetess : "why, be a man, and 
face the worst. I'll wait for you, however long the sentence 
maybe." Next day fortune deserted Kevin. The jury found 
him guilty. The judge assigned him ten years' transporta- 
tion. "Eva" was allowed to see him once more in the cell 
to say adieu. She whispered in his ear, " Be you faithful. 
I'll wait." And she did. Years fled by, and the young 
exile was at length allowed once more to tread Irish soil. 
Two days after he landed at Kingstown "Eva" was his 
bride. 

Less happy was the romance of "Mary's" fate. She was 
a Munster lady, Miss Ellen Downing by name, and, like 
"Eva," formed an attachment for one of the Young Ireland 
writers. In "Forty-eight" he became a fugitive. Alas, in 
foreign climes he learned to forget home vows. " Mary " 
sank under the blow. She put by the lyre, and in utter se- 
clusion from the world lingered for a while ; but ere long 
the spring flowers bloomed on her grave. 

"Speranza" — then Miss Elgee, now Lady Wilde — was in- 
comparably the most brilliant of the galaxy. She was the 
daughter of the Eev. Mr. Elgee, Protestant rector of a parish 
in the county Wexford, and sister of the Hon. Judge Elgee, 
of New Orleans. Young, beautiful, highly educated, en- 



104 NEW IRELAND. 

dowed with rarest gifts of intellect, her personal attractions 
her cultivated mind, her originality and force of character 
made her the center figure in Dublin society thirty year 
ago. In 1845 she married Sir William Robert Wilde, b] 
whose death recently Ireland has lost one of its most disf 
tinguished archaeologists. Down to almost a recent perioc 
Lady Wilde continued her contributions to Irish nationa 
literature, ever and anon striking a chord in the old strain, 
always singing of hope and courage and truth. One of th( 
last contributions I received from her hand for publication 
in the Nation affords a good illustration of the spirit which! 
animated all " Speranza's " poems. Death had been busy} 
just then striking down some of the most trusted of thet 
Irish national leaders, and many circumstances led me to 
express one day in writing to her my utter disheartenmentt 
as to the outlook in Irish politics. A post or two subse- 
quently brought me from Lady Wilde this address to hen 
countrymen : 

" Has the line of the patriots ended, 

The race of the heroes fail'd, 
That the bow of the mighty, unbended, 

Falls slack from the hands of the quail'd? 
Or do graves lie too thick in the grass 
For the chariot of Progress to pass ? 

" Did the men of the past ever falter, — 
The stainless in name and fame ? 
They flung life's best gifts on the altar 

To kindle the sacrifice-flame, 
Till it rose like a pillar of light 
Leading up from Egyptian night. 

" O hearts all aflame with the daring 

Of youth leaping forth into life ! 
Have ye courage to lift up, unfearing, 

The banner fallen low in the strife, 
From hands faint through life's deepest loss 
And bleeding from nails of the cross ? 



" YOUNG IRELAND." 105 

" Can ye work on as they work'd, — unaided, 

When all but honor seem'd lost, — 
And give to your country, as they did, 

All, without counting the cost ? 
For the children have risen since then 
Up to the height of men. 

" Now swear by those pale martyr-faces 

All worn by the furrows of tears, 
By the lost youth no morrow replaces, 

By all their long wasted years, 
By the fires trod out on each hearth, 
When the Exiles were driven forth ; 

" By the young lives so vainly given, 
By the raven hair blanch'd to gray, 
By the strong spirits crush'd and riven, 

By the noble aims faded away, 
By their brows, as the brows of a king, 
Crown'd by the circlet of suffering — 

" To strive as they strove, yet retrieving 

The Cause from all shadow of blame, 
In the Congress of Peoples achieving 

A place for our nation and name ; 
Not by war between brothers in blood, 
But by glory made perfect through good. 

" We are blind, not discerning the promise, 

'Tis the sword of the Spirit that kills ; 
Give us Light, and the fetters fall from us, 

For the strong soul is free when it wills : 
Not our wrongs but our sins make the cloud 
That darkens the land like a shroud. 

" With this sword like an archangel's gleaming, 

Go war against Evil and Sin, 
'Gainst the falsehood and meanness and seeming 

That stifle the true life within. 
Tour bonds are the bonds of the soul, 
Strike them off, and you spring to the goal 1 
5* 



106 - NEW IRELAND. 

" O men who have pass'd through the furnace, 

Assay'd like the gold, and as pure ! 
By your strength can the weakest gain firmness, 

The strongest may learn to endure, 
When once they have chosen their part, 
Though the sword may drive home to each heart. 

" O martyrs ! The scorners may trample 
On hroken hearts strew'd in their path ! 
But the young race, all flush'd by example, 

Will awake to the duties it hath, 
And rekindle your own torch of Truth 
With the passionate splendors of youth ! " 

It was not as a poet Lady Wilde first became a contributoii 
to the Nation. Some exceedingly able letters having ap- 
peared in that journal signed "John Fanshawe Ellis," tin 
editor, Mr. Duffy, expressed, in the "Notices to Correspond- 
ents," a desire to meet "Mr. Ellis." By return of post li€( 
was informed that he could do so by calling on a certain 
evening at the house of Dr. W. K. Wilde. Mr. Duffy went,, 
and was received by the doctor, who, having chatted with 
him for a while, left the room and shortly returned leading 1 , 
by the hand "Mr. John Fanshawe Ellis" in the person of 
his wife, formerly Miss Jane Frances Elgee, "Speranza" off 
future fame. In truth, Lady Wilde could rouse the soul by 
thrilling prose as well as by impassioned song. In 1848 she 
was the Madame Eoland of the Irish Gironde. When the 
struggle was over, and Gavan Duffy was on trial for high 
treason, among the articles read against him was one from 
the suppressed number of the Nation, entitled " Jacta Alea 
Est." It was without example as a revolutionary appeal. 
Exquisitely beautiful as a piece of writing, it glowed with 
fiery incentive. It was in fact a prose poem, a wild war- 
song, in which Ireland was called upon that day in the face 
of earth and heaven to invoke the ultima ratio of oppressed 
nations. The Attorney-General read the article amidst 
breathless silence. At its close there was a murmur of 
emotion in the densely-crowded court, when suddenly a cry 



" YOUNG IRELAND." 107 

from the ladies' gallery startled every one. "I am the culpri t, 
if crime it be,'' was spoken in a woman's voice. It was the 
voice of queenly " Speranza." The article was from her pen. 

The recognized leader, at all events the political chief, of 
the Young Ireland party was William Smith O'Brien. He 
was a Protestant gentleman of high character and influential 
position in Clare ; his brother, Lord Inchiquin (at that time 
Sir Lucius O'Brien), being nearest male relative to the Mar- 
quis of Thomond. The family is undoubtedly of ancient 
and illustrious lineage, tracing in authenticated line from 
King Brian I., monarch of Ireland, whose overthrow of the 
»f Danish power at Clontarf was an event of European interest 
and importance in the eleventh century. In the reigns of 
Elizabeth and James the First most of the Irish chieftains 
who from time to time submitted or " attorned " to the Eng- 
lish power undertook to accept English titles, and to give up 
their children (their next heirs, at all events) to be educated 
as Government "wards." The young hostages, for such in 
truth they were, in every case were brought up Protestants, 
so that few of the existing representatives of the ancient 
Milesian chieftainries now profess the Catholic faith. 

Early in the seventeenth century an English coronet sat on 
the brows of the Thomond chieftain. In the civil war of 
1641 Morrough O'Brien, Earl of Thomond, espoused Crom- 
well's side, and was the terror of the Munster royalists. It 
was he who cannonaded and set fire to the cathedral of Cash el, 
— magnificent even now in its ruins. 

William Smith O'Brien was born in 1803, and was edu- 
cated at Harrow and Trinity College, Cambridge. He early 
entered Parliament for one of what may be called the family 
seats as a stanch Conservative. Though strong Tories, and 
actively opposing O'Connell in his Emancipation agitation, 
the Thomond O'Briens were intensely Irish, and were ex- 
tremely popular in Clare and Limerick. From 1826 to 
1843 Smith O'Brien pursued in Parliament the career of an 
Irish "country-gentleman " Conservative, of rather liberal or 



108 NEW IRELAND. 

popular inclinations, devoting himself actively to what would 
be called practical legislation affecting the material interests 
of Ireland. In 1843 he startled the country by publicly 
giving in his adhesiou to the Kepeal movement, stating thati 
fourteen years' patient trial of the London Parliament had 
brought him conscientiously to this determination. By this 
step he not alone severed himself forever in public affairs 
from his lifetime associates and friends, but suffered estrange- 
ment in his own family, which he felt most acutely. He was, 
however, a man of invincible purpose, absolutely destitute of 
fear or vacillation in what he conceived to be the path of : 
duty. He was the very soul of honor and truth. I doubt ; 
that Ireland ever knew a higher type of public virtue and 
personal integrity than William Smith O'Brien. Yet he 
lacked many essential qualifications of a great political leader. 
It was not because of his abilities, but of his virtues and of 
his commanding social position, that he rose to be the chief 
of an Irish party. He was proud, almost haughty, dignified 
and reserved in manner. His conservatism never wholly 
abandoned him. Early associations left an indelible imprint 
on his character, opinions, and principles. He had a horror 
of revolutionary doctrines. No man in all the land seemed 
less likely to figure subsequently in history as a rebel chief. 

His accession to the Eepeal movement was the great event 
of the time. He Avas hailed as " the second man in Ireland," 
O'Connell being the first. I doubt that the old " Catholic 
Emancipation party," O'Connell's immediate following, ever 
took cordially to him ; but he soon became the head of the 
literary and educational party in the Eepeal ranks, whose 
independence of thought and boldness of speech were daily 
alarming the Liberator. "When at length matters came to a 
crisis in the association, and the secession described in a pre- 
vious chapter took place, O'Brien, though greatly regretting 
the incident, withdrew with " Young Ireland," and thence- 
forth took his place as the recognized and responsible leader 
of the party. 



" YOUNG IRELAND." 109 

I first met William Smith O'Brien in July, 1848, three 
weeks before the catastrophe which consigned him to a 
traitor's doom. He was engaged in the tour of the south- 
western and southern counties, evidently anxious to satisfy 
himself as to the real state of public feeling, and, I have no 
doubt, the physical resources of the national party. He was 
to arrive at Glongariffe on his way, via Bantry, to a great 
parade or review of the Confederate clubs in Cork. The men 
of our coasts and mountains decided to give him a royal re- 
ception and in a style characteristic of an aquatic community. 
Not only the fishing-fleet of Bantry, but the boats of every 
seaside hamlet on creek and inlet for miles around, were to 
accompany him across the bay from Glengariff e to Bantry, a 
little fore-and-aft-schooner yacht of my father's having the 
envied honor of conveying the distinguished visitor. With 
flowing sheet we crossed the open bay, and reached the east- 
ward point of Whiddy Island, that shields from ocean billow 
and gale the haven of Bantry. The instant we rounded the 
island there met our view a scene I shall never forget. A 
flotilla of some hundreds of boats here awaited us. Every 
crew had gone ashore and pulled green boughs from the trees 
and fastened them upright on the gunwales, so that each boat 
was like a floating bower. When the " Independence,*' quick- 
ly turning the point, shot into sight, there burst from the 
fleet a deafening shout, the bands struck up, the oarsmen 
gave way with a will, we pulled our fore-stay-sail aback so as 
to slow for them, and the whole procession crossed the harbor's 
wide expanse like Birnam Wood marching on Dunsinane. 

When next I met O'Brien — it was in 1857 — a sad chapter 
of Irish history had been added to the national annals. Thence- 
forth, to the hour of his death, we were closely associated 
as political and personal friends ; but in the Young Ireland 
period, my only personal intercourse with, or experience of, 
him was that of the memorable scene I have just described.* 

* How warmly lie remembered it, even amidst tlie gloom of a con- 
viction for high treason, was shown by bis forwarding to me from bis 



HO NEW IRELAND. 

One of the notable grounds of difference between the two 
sections of Kepealers in O'ConnelTs association was the com- 
plaint of the Young Irelanders that the National movement 
was being conducted with too much of a religious bias ; that 
is to say, in a way which seemed to assume that every patri- 
otic Irishman must necessarily be a Catholic. O'Connell 
made the platform of the association ring with denunciations 
of every measure, prospect, or principle inimical to Catholic 
feeling. The Catholic Young Irelanders said that in a 
Catholic association this would be right and proper ; but 
they asserted that in a public organization, explicitly re- 
stricted to a purely political purpose, and in which Protes- 
tants and Catholics were alike engaged, it was out of place, 
and quite wrong. The contention over this issue grew very 
bitter. Out of it arose the imputation of "free-thinking" 
doctrines which some persons long sought to fasten on the 
Young Ireland party. 

Hard things were said on both sides. The Old Irelanders 
anathematized the young men as infidels; the Young Ire- 
landers denounced the old as bigots. The point involved 
wis by no means trivial; it was of the first magnitude ; it was 
vital for the future of Ireland : namely, whether combined 
effort between Protestant and Catholic Irishmen in purely 
political affairs was to be rendered impracticable. Although 
some of the " Young " party pushed their arguments in lan- 
guage that partook far too much of latitudinarianism, it is 
now recognized and confessed that on this occasion they de- 
fended a position the loss or surrender of which would have 
been simply disastrous. The utmost they ware able to do at 

cell in Richmond jail the music of a favorite song, with this inscrip- 
tion : 

"Presented to Alexander M. Sullivan by William S. O'Brien, in 
remembrance of his excursion by water from Glengariffe to Bantry, on 
board the yacht ' Independence,' in July, 1848 ; when this song was 
sung by a young lady. 
" Richmond Prison, March, 1849." 



" YOUNG IRELAND." HI 

the time was to make a stout fight. Not until many years 
afterward was the principle they thus contended for pro- 
claimed and adopted as unquestioned and unquestionable in 
Irish affairs. Had they not fought for it then, a wall of 
brass might now be dividing into hostile camps Protestant 
and Catholic Irishmen. But their whole career was one of 
struggle, unrequited by a single ray of immediate victory. 
Their break with O'Connell drew down on them long-endur- 
ing unpopularity. Their reprehensions of parliamentary 
corruption caused them to be derided as Utopian purists. 
Their fight for religious tolerance exposed them to charges 
of infidelity. Their educational propaganda was scoffed at 
as boyish bubble-blowing. On nearly every point of their 
programme they seemed to fail. That is to say, they were 
wrecked as a party before leaf or blossom appeared to indi- 
cate that the seed they had planted with so much toil had 
not perished forever. But we of to-day reap the fruits of 
their labors. They were the precursors of a better time. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

"FORTY-EIGHT." 

Eighteen hundred and forty-eight has been called, by 
Lord Normanby I believe, the "Year of Revolutions." It 
is certain that history supplies us with no similar spectacle 
of general and almost simultaneous outbreak in the capitals 
of Europe. The ideal "principles" of 1789 found at the 
time admirers and sympathizers in many lands ; but so far 
from the overthrow of the French monarchy immediately 
calling forth like events elsewhere, Christendom stood aghast 
at the dread spectacle in Paris of men who 

"At Death's reeking altar like furies caressing 
The Young Hope of Freedom, baptized it in blood." 

There can be no doubt, however, that from the Place de la 
Bastile were scattered eventually over Europe ideas and doc- 
trines which, ever since, have been in part the watchwords 
of human liberty and in part the shibboleths of anarchy and 
crime. 

The French revolution of February, 1848, was no such 
"bolt from the blue" as some have considered it. There 
were storm-flashes all around, gloom on every hand, and dis- 
tant peals by the Adriatic. In November, 1847, Austria 
commenced to occupy the Italian States, taking possession 
of Parma, Modena, and Reggio. Early in January, 1848, 
there was an outbreak at Leghorn. On the 12th Palermo 
revolted against King Ferdinand, and a "constitution" was 
conceded. On the 13th the Emperor of Austria announced 
that he would make "no further concessions," and two days 
later Radetzky issued an order of the day commanding his 

112 



" FORTY-EIGHT." 113 

troops to prepare for an immediate struggle. On the 29th 
the Constitution of 1812 was proclaimed in Naples, and on 
the 30th the Duke of Modena fled his capital. On the 8th 
of February the King of Sardinia followed the example set 
in Naples, and granted a "constitution." On the 11th the 
Grand Duke of Tuscany did the same. On the 22d martial 
law was proclaimed in Lombardy ; and on the same day 
Messina was bombarded by the Neapolitan troops. 

These events, it will be seen, bring us up to the very eve of 
the day on which Louis Philippe was swept from the French 
throne ; yet it was in the midst of such ominous signs that 
the " citizen king " and his infatuated ministers were rushing 
blindly on their fate. On the 26 th of December, 1847, the 
first of the "reform banquets" was held at Rouen, eighteen 
hundred persons attending. At this as at numerous similar 
demonstrations the toast of the king's health was omitted. 
On the 12th of February M. Guizot declared in the French 
Chamber against reform or concession. On the 21st the 
Paris reform banquet was proclaimed. On the 22d the im- 
peachment of M. Guizot was proposed in the Chamber, but 
the motion was triumphantly defeated, — that "astute and 
far-seeing minister," as he was universally considered, laugh- 
ing outright at the absurd and impotent proceeding. Within 
forty-eight hours he and his royal master were fugitives, and 
the monarchy of July was no more ! 

Scarcely had the astounding news from Paris burst upon 
us, when all around the European horizon, north, south, east, 
and west, the flames of revolution leaped to the sky. The 
crash of falling thrones, the roar of cannon, the shouts of 
popular victory, filled the air. A fierce contagion seemed to 
spread all over the Continent. The Holy Alliance was in the 
dust, and a thousand voices from Milan to Berlin proclaimed 
that the deliverance of subject peoples was at hand. 

Ireland could not escape the fever of the hour. It found 
her in circumstances that seemed to leave her little choice 
but to yield to its influence. 



114 NEW IRELAND. 

Eighteen months previously the severance between "01d' ! 
and "Young" Ireland had occurred. There were now two 
Eepeal organizations : one, the original association founded 
by O'Connell, now feebly conducted by his son ; the other, 
the "Irish Confederation" started by the seceding Young 
Irelanders, or " Confederates," as they came to be designated 
at this period. The secession, it will be remembered, al 
though it had more real causes, was ostensibly provoked or 
produced by O'ConnelPs attempt to exact from all Eepealers 
a declaration reprehending physical force. Although the 
Young Irelanders had on that occasion refused to sign a dec- 
laration which, as they contended, logically struck at some 
of the best and bravest men in the world's history, they really 
were at one with O'Connell as to reliance on moral and politi- 
cal influences alone for the achievement of Irish aims. No 
doubt they believed in the moral influence of physical re- 
sources and inculcated this doctrine with an earnestness that 
could not fail to alarm the old tribune. Scarcely, however, 
had the seceders — the party of the Left, so to speak, in the 
Eepeal Association — attempted to carry on an agitation in- 
dependently as the Irish Confederation, than it became evi- 
dent there was an "Extreme Left" as well as a "Left Cen- 
ter." Amidst the maddening scenes of Forty-six and Forty- 
seven a real "physical force party" began to be heard of, 
chiefly in wild declarations that it were better the people 
should perish arms in hand than rot away in thousands under 
a famine regime. No one seriously regarded these passion- 
ate exclamations at the time. Toward the close of 1847, 
however, conflict on the subject became inevitable. Mr. John 
Mitchel, one of the editors of the Nation newspaper, declared 
the time had come for calling upon the Irish people to face 
an armed struggle. Such a course was entirely opposed to 
the principles and policy of the journal to which he was at- 
tached, and was utterly condemned by Gavan Duffy and 
Darcy McGee, Mitchel's editorial colleagues. He retired 
from the Nation, and the controversy was carried into the 



" FOBTY-JSIGHT." 115 

council-room of the Confederation. In the light of events 
that soon after became public history the statement must 
seem strange, yet true it is, that the most able and vehement 
opponents of Mitchel's physical force propositions were Smith 
O'Brien, John B. Dillon, Gavan Duffy, T. F. Meagher, 
Richard CTGorman, Michael Doheny, Darcy McGee, — the 
very men who, a few months later, were prisoners in dungeon 
bound, or fugitives on the hill-side, for participation in an 
Irish insurrection ! 

John Mitchel — the first man who, since Robert Emmet 
perished on the scaffold in 1803, preached an Irish insurrec- 
tion and the total severance of Ireland from the British 
Crown — was the son of the Rev. John Mitchel, Unitarian 
minister of Dungiven, county Derry. He was born in 1815, 
and was educated at Trinity College, Dublin. Like many 
another Trinity student, he early became a contributor to 
the Nation newspaper ; and in 1845, on the death of Thomas 
Davis, he accepted an editorial position on that journal, in 
conjunction with Charles Gavan Duffy and Thomas Darcy 
McGee. The stern Unitarian Ulsterman soon developed a 
decided bent in favor of what half a century before would 
have been called "French principles." He was republican 
and revolutionary. At all events, during the scenes of the 
famine-period he quite drew away from the policy advocated 
by his colleagues, and eventually called upon the Irish Con- 
federation to declare for a war of independence. He it was 
who revived the " Separatist " or revolutionary party in Irish 
politics. From 1803 up to 1845 no such party had any rec- 
ognized or visible existence. There was, beyond question, 
disaffection in the country, a constantly-maintained protest 
against, or passive resistance to, the existing state of things ; 
but no one dreamed of a political aim beyond Repeal of the 
Union as a constitutional object to be attained by constitu- 
tional means. The era of revolt and rebellion seemed gone 
forever. John Mitchel, however, thrust utterly aside the 
doctrines of loyalty and legality. He declared that consti- 



116 NEW IRELAND. 

tutionalism was demoralizing the country. By "blood and 
iron " alone could Ireland be saved. 

These violent doctrines were abhorrent to Smith O'Brien, 
and indeed to nearly every one of the Confederation leaders. 
O'Brien declared that either he or Mitchel must quit thel ' ( 
organization. The question was publicly debated for two 
days at full meetings, and on the 5th of February, 1848, the 
"war "party were utterly outvoted, and retired from the 
Confederation. Seven days afterward John Mitchel, as if 
rendered desperate by this reprehension of his doctrines, 
started a weekly newspaper called the United Irishman to 
openly preach his policy of insurrection. 

He was regarded as a madman. Young Irelanders and 
Old Irelanders alike laughed in derision or shouted in anger 
at this proceeding. But events were now near which, all 
unforeseen as they were by Mitchel and by his opponents, 
were destined to put the desperate game completely into his 
hands. 

The third number of the new journal had barely appeared 
when news of the French revolution burst on an astonished 
world. It set Ireland in a blaze. Each day added to the 
excitement. Every post brought tidings of some popular 
rising, invariably crowned with victory. Every bulletin, 
whether from Paris, Berlin, or Vienna, told the same story, 
preached, as it were, the same lesson, — barricades in the 
streets, overthrow of the Government, triumph of the peo- 
ple. It may be doubted if the United Irishman would have 
lived through a third month but for this astounding turn of 
affairs. Now its every utterance was rapturously hailed by a 
wildly-excited multitude. What need to trace what may be 
easily understood ? — Ireland was irresistibly swept into the 
vortex of revolution. The popular leaders, who a month 
previously had publicly defeated Mitchel's pleadings for war, 
now caught the prevalent passion. Struck by the events 
they beheld and the examples set on every side, they verily 
believed that Ireland had but to "go and do likewise," and 



b 



In 



"FORTY-EIGHT.* 117 

he boon of national liberty would be conceded by England, 
>robably without a blow. 

Confederate "clubs" now sprang up all over the country, 
md arming and drilling were opeuly carried on. Mitchel's 
ournal week by week labored with fierce energy to hurry the 
•onilict. The editor addressed letters through its pages to 
Lord Clarendon, the Irish Viceroy, styling him " Her Ma- 
esty's Executioner General and General Butcher of Ireland." 
3e published instructions as to street-warfare ; noted the 
'Berlin system," and the " Milanese system," and the 
\ Viennese system ; " highly praised molten lead, crockery- 
-vare, broken bottles, and even cold vitriol, as good things 
or citizens, male or female, to fling from windows and 
louse-tops on hostile troops operating below. Of course 
Vlitchel knew that this could not possibly be tolerated. His 
alculation was that the Government must indeed seize him, 
out that before he could be struck down and his paper be 
uppressed he would have rendered revolution inevitable. 

The Confederation leaders had indeed embraced the idea 
af an armed struggle, yet the divergence of principles be- 
tween them and the Mitchel party was wide almost as ever. 
They seemed marching together on the one road, yet it was 
hardly so. For a long time O'Brien and his friends held to 
a hope that eventually concession and arrangement between 
the Government and Ireland would avert collision. Mitchel, 
on the other hand, feared nothing more than compromise of 
any kind. They would fain proceed soberly upon the model 
of Washington and the Colonies ; he was for following the 
example of Louis Blanc and the boulevards of Paris. The 
ideal struggle of their plans, if struggle there must be, was 
a well-prepared and carefully-ordered appeal to arms,* and 

* A private letter written from his cell in Newgate prison by Gavan 
Duffy to O'Brien in the week preceding the outbreak, and found in 
O'Brien's portmanteau after his arrest, brings out very curiously these 
views : 

" I am glad to learn you are about to commence a series of meetings 



E;i 



118 NEW IRELAND. 

so they would wait till autumn, when the harvest would be | e 
gathered in. " Eose-water revolutionists," Mitchel scorn- 
fully called them. "Fools, idiots," exclaimed one of his 
lieutenants: "they will wait till muskets are showered 
down to them from heaven, and angels sent to pull the ' 
triggers." 

Behind all this argument for preparation and delay there 
undoubtedly existed what maybe called the "conservative" 
ideas and principles, which some of the leading Confederates 
entertained. O'Brien stormed against "the Eeds," as he 
called the more desperate and impatient men. They, on the 
other hand, denounced him as an "aristocrat" at heart, and 
a man whose weakness would be the ruin of the whole enter- 
prise. Speaking with myself years afterward, he referred 
bitterly to the reproaches cast upon him for his alleged 
"punctiliousness" and excessive alarm as to anti-social ex- 
cesses. "I was ready to give my life in a fair fight for a 
nation's rights," said he ; "but I was not willing to head a 
Jacquerie" 

But if the whilom Young Irelanders were thus split into 
two sections, led respectively by O'Brien and Mitchel, there j | 
was a third party to be taken into account, the O'Connellite 
Eepealers. These were as hostile to the revolutionists — 
both " rose-water " and " vitriol " — as were the life-long par- 
tisans of imperial rule. On the occasion of a public ban- 
quet given to O'Brien, Meagher, and Mitchel in the city of 
Limerick in March, 1848, an O'Connellite mob surrounded 

in Munster. There is no half-way house for you ; you will be the 
head of the movement, loyally obeyed ; and the revolution will be 
conducted with order and clemency, or the mere anarchists will pre- 
vail with the people, and our revolution will be a bloody chaos. You 
have at present Lafayette's place as painted by Lamartine, and I be- 
lieve have fallen into Lafayette's error of not using it to all its effect 
and in all its resources. I am well aware that you do not desire to 
lead or influence others ; but I believe with Lamartine that that feel- 
ing, which is a high civic virtue, is a vice in revolutions." 



"FOETY EIGHT." 119 

ae hall and dispersed the company in a scene of riot and 
loodshed. The immediate cause of this astonishing pro- 
eeding was an attack on the memory of O'Connell in Mitch- 

s paper, the dead tribune having been contumeliously re- 
3i*red to for his " degrading and demoralizing moral-force 
octrines." 

One important class in Ireland — a class long accustomed 
d move with or head the people — throughout all this time 

t themselves invincibly against the contemplated insurrec- 
ion : the Catholic clergy. They had from the first, as a 
ody, regarded the Young Irelanders with suspicion. They 
ancied they saw in this movement too much that was akin 
d the work of the Continental revolutionists, and greatly as 
aey disliked the domination of England they would prefer 
i; a thousand times to such " liberty" as the Carbonari 
'ould proclaim. At this time, in 1848, the power of the 

atholic priests was unbroken, was stronger than ever. The 
amine-scenes, in which their love for the people was attested 
y heroism and self-sacrifice such as the world had never 
een surpassed, had given them an influence which none 
ould question or withstand. Their antagonism was fatal 
o the movement, — more surely and infallibly fatal to it than 
ill the power of the British Crown. 

Lord Clarendon, though fully aware that the war-policy 
foung Irelanders were comparatively weak in numbers, 
ividently judged that an outbreak once begun might have 
m alarming development. He determined to strike quickly 
md strike hard. On the 21st of March O'Brien, Meagher, 
md Mitchel were arrested, the first two charged with sedi- 
ious speeches, Mitchel with seditious writings. The prose- 
mtions against O'Brien and Meagher on this indictment 
'ailed through disagreement of the juries. As to Mitchel, 
jefore his trial by the ordinary course of procedure for sedi- 
tion could be held, the Government passed through Parlia- 
nent a new law called the " Treason Felony Act," which 
gave greater facilities for dealing with such offenses. On 



120 NEW IRELAND. 

the 22d of May he was arraigned under the new act in 
Green Street Court-house, Dublin, and on the 26th was ],, 
found guilty. 

The Mitchelite party had determined and avowed that his 
conviction — any attempt to remove him from Dublin as a 
convict — should be the signal for a rising ; and now the 
event had befallen. There can be no question that had they 
carried out their resolution a desperate and bloody conflict 
would have ensued. Mitchel possessed in a remarkable 
degree the power of inspiring personal attachment and devo- 
tion ; and there were thousands of men in Dublin who would 
have given their lives to rescue him. The Government 
were aware of this, and occupied themselves in preparations 
for an outbreak in the metropolis. The Confederation lead-| 
ers, however, who considered that any resort to arms before 
the autumn would be disastrous, strained every energy inui 
dissuading the Mitchelites from the contemplated course of 
action. The whole of the day previous to the conviction u 
was spent in private negotiations, interviews, arguments, and I 
appeals. This labor was prolonged far into the night, and I. 
it was only an hour or two before morning dawned on the \ 
27th of May, 1848, that Dublin was saved from the horrors ; 
of a sanguinary struggle. 

The friends of Mitchel never concealed their displeasure 
at the countermand thus effected by the O'Brien party, and 
prophesied that the opportunity for a successful commence- 
ment of the national struggle had been blindly and culpably 
sacrificed. The consent of the Dublin clubs to abandon the 
rescue or rising on this occasion was obtained, however, only 
on the solemn undertaking of the Confederation chiefs that 
in the second week of August the standard of insurrection 
would absolutely be unfurled. 

A rumor that some such dissuasion was being attempted — 
that Smith O'Brien and his friends were opposed to the in- 
tended conflict — spread through Dublin late on the evening 
of the 26th of May, and painful uncertainty and apprehen- 



i 



" FORTY-EIGHT." 121 

ion agitated the city next morning. The Government, 
hough well informed through spies of everything that was 
assing, took measures in preparation for all possible eventu- 
litics. Mitchel was sentenced to fourteen years' transporta- 
ion beyond the seas. The court was densely crowded with 
.is personal and political friends and former fellow-students 
f Trinity College. He heard the sentence with composure, 
nd then a silence as if of the tomb fell on the throng as it 
■8 seen he was about to speak. He addressed the court in 
[cfiant tones. " My lords," said he, "I knew I was setting 
ay life on that cast. The course which I have opened is 
nly commenced. The Eoman who saw his hand burning 
o ashes before the tyrant promised that three hundred 
hould follow out his enterprise. Can I not promise for one, 
for two, — for three, — ay, for hundreds ? " As he uttered 
hese closing words he pointed first to John Martin, then to 
)evin Eeilly, next to Thomas Francis Meagher, and so on to 
he throng of associates whom he saw crowding the galleries. 
i thundering cry rang through the building, " Promise for 
ne, Mitchel ! Promise for me ! " and a rush was made to 
mbrace him ere they should see him no more. The officers 
n wild dismay thought it meant a rescue. Arms were 
Irawn ; bugles in the street outside sounded the alarm ; 
roops hurried up. A number of police flung themselves on 
Mitchel, tore him from the embrace of his excited friends, 
ind hurried him through the wicket that leads from the 
lock to the cells beneath. 

It may be pronounced that in that moment the Irish insur- 
rectionary movement of 1848 was put down. 

At an early hour that morning the war-sloop " Shear- 
water " was drawn close to the north wall jetty at Dublin 
juay. There she lay, with fires lighted and steam up, wait- 
ing the freight that was being prepared for her in Green 
Street Court-house. Scarcely had Mitchel been removed 
from the dock than he was heavily manacled, strong chains 
passing from his wrists to his ankles. Thus fettered, he was 
6 



122 NEW IRELAND. 

hurried into a police-van waiting outside the gateway, sur un- 
rounded by dragoons with sabers drawn. At a signal the i 
cavalcade dashed oft', and, skillfully making a detour of th« i? 
city so as to avoid the streets wherein hostile crowds mighl 
have been assembled or barricades erected, they reached tW » 
"Shearwater" at the wharf. Mitchel was carried on board. 1 R 
and had scarcely touched the deck when the paddles wer( 
put in motion, the steamer swiftly sped to sea, and in a fe^ 
hours the hills of Ireland had faded from view. 

The news of his conviction and sentence, the astounding 
intelligence that he was really gone, burst like a thunder 
clap on the clubs throughout the provinces. A cry of rage to 
went up, and the Confederation chiefs were fiercely de-i 
nounced for what was called their fatal cowardice. Confi 
dence in their determination vanished. Unfortunately, from' 
this date forward there was for them no retreating. They i 
now flung themselves into the provinces, traversing the a 1 
counties from east to west, addressing meetings, inspecting 
club organizations, inquiring as to armament, and exhorting 
the people to be ready for the fray. Of course the Govern-^ 
ment was not either inattentive or inactive. Troops werefri 
poured into the country ; barracks were improvised, garri 
sons strengthened, gunboats moved into the rivers, flying 
camps established ; every military disposition was made forfip 
encountering the insurrection. 

In all their calculations the Confederate leaders had reck- 1 mi 
oned upon two months for preparation, which would bring pa 
them to the middle of August. By no legal process of ar- 
rest or prosecution known to them could their conviction be jwi 
effected in a shorter space of time. Never once did they is 
take into contemplation the possibility (and to men dealing i. 
with so terrible a problem it ought to have been an obvious ft 
contingency) that the Government would dispense with the 
slow and tedious forms of ordinary procedure and grasp them 
quickly with avenging hand. While O'Brien and Dillon and 
Meagher, O'Gorman and McGee, were scattered through the 



mi 



ii 



" FORTY-EIGHT." 123 

ountry, arranging for the rising, lo ! the news reached Dub- 
inin one day in the last week of July that the previous even- 
1 ag the Government had passed through Parliament a bill 
i| or suspending the Habeas Corpus Act. That night proc- 
lamations were issued for the arrest of the Confederate lead- 
rs, and considerable rewards were offered for their appre- 
hension. 

This news found O'Brien at Ballinkeele, in Wexford 
ounty. He moved rapidly from thence through Kilkenny 
into Tipperary, for the purpose of gathering in the latter 
ounty a considerable force with which to march upon Kil- 
cenny city — this having been selected as the spot whence a 
>rovisional government was to issue its manifesto calling Ire- 
and to arms. Before any such purpose could be effected, he 
ound himself surrounded by flying detachments of military 
ind police. Between some of these and a body of the peas- 
-ntry, who had assembled to escort him at the village of 
3allingary, a conflict ensued, the result of which showed 
iim the utter hopelessness of the attempted rising, and in 
act suppressed it there and then. As the people were gath- 
ring in thousands — and they would have assembled in num- 
bers more than sufficient to defeat any force that could then 
lave been brought against him — the Catholic clergy appeared 
ipon the scene. They rushed amidst the multitude, implor- 
ng them to desist from such an enterprise, pointing out the 
mpreparedness of the country, and demonstrating the too 
>alpable fact that the Government were in a position to 
[uench in blood any insurrectionary movement. "Where 
ire your arms ? " they said : — there were no arms. " Where 

your commissariat?" — the multitude were absolutely 
without food. ** Where are your artillery, your cavalry ? 
iVhere are your leaders, your generals, your officers ? What 
s your plan of campaign ? Mr. O'Brien and Mr. Dillon are 
loble-minded men ; but they are not men of military quali- 
ication. Are you not rushing to certain destruction ?" 
These exhortations, poured forth with a vehemence almost 



124 NEW IRELAND. 

indescribable, had a profound effect. The gathering thou- 
sands melted slowly away, and O'Brien, dismayed, astounded, 
and sick at heart, found himself at the head, not of fifty 
thousand stalwart Tipperary men armed and equipped for a 
national struggle, but of a few hundred half-clad and wholly 
unarmed peasantry. Scarcely had they set forth when 
they encountered one of the police detachments. A skir- 
mish took place. The police retreated into a substantially- 
built farm-house close by, which, situated as it was, they 
could have held against ten times their own force of military 
men without artillery. The attempt of the peasantry to 
storm it was disastrous, as O'Brien forbade imperatively the 
execution of the only resort which could have compelled its 
evacuation. Three of his subordinates had brought up loads 
of hay and straw to fire the building. It was the house of a 
widow, whose five children were at the moment within. She 
rushed to the rebel chief, flung herself on her knees, and 
asked him if he was going to stain his name and cause by an 
act so barbarous as the destruction of her little ones. O'Brien 
immediately ordered the combustibles to be thrown aside, 
although a deadly fusilade from the police force within was 
at the moment decimating his followers. These, disgusted 
with a tenderness of feeling which they considered out of 
place on such an occasion, abandoned the siege of the build- 
ing, and dispersed homeward. Ere the evening fell, O'Brien, 
accompanied by two or three faithful adherents, was a fugi- 
tive in the defiles of the Kilnamanagh Mountains. No bet- 
ter success awaited his subordinates elsewhere. In May they 
had prevented a rising ; now they found the country would 
not rise at their call. 

Soon after Mitchel's transportation, Duffy was arrested in 
Dublin, and on the 28th of July armed police broke into the 
Nation office, seized the number of the paper being then 
printed, smashed up the types, and carried off to the Castle 
all the documents they could find. Throughout the country 
arrests and seizures of arms were made on all hands. Every 



" FORTY-EIGHT." 125 

lay the Hue and Cry contained new proclamations and new 
lists of fugitives personally described. There was no longer 
my question of resistance. Never was collapse more com- 
plete. The fatal war-fever that came in a day vanished 
ilmost as rapidly. Suddenly every one appeared astounded 
it the madness of what had been contemplated ; but some- 
how very few seemed to have perceived it a month before. 

Throughout the remaining months of the year Ireland 
was given over to the gloomy scenes of special commissions, 
state trials, and death-sentences. Of the leaders or promi- 
nent actors in this abortive insurrection, O'Brien, Meagher, 
MacManus, Martin, and O'Doherty were convicted ; Dillon, 
O'Gorman, and Doheny succeeded in accomplishing their 
escape to America. O'Brien, Meagher, and MacManus, 
with one of their devoted companions in danger, Patrick 
O'Donoghue by name, having been convicted of high treason, 
[were sentenced to death ; but, by authority of a specially- 
passed act of Parliament, the barbarous penalty of hanging, 
disemboweling, and quartering, to which they were formally 
adjudged, was commuted into transportation beyond the 
seas for life. Duffy was thrice brought to trial ; but, 
although the Crown made desperate efforts to effect his con- 
viction, the prosecution each time broke down, baffled by 
the splendid abilities of the defense conducted by Mr. Isaac 
Butt, Q.C. Eventually the proceedings against him were 
abandoned. Of less important participators numbers were 
convicted, and hundreds fled the country never to return. 
" Forty-eight" cost Ireland dearly, — not alone in the sacri- 
fice of some of her best and noblest sons, led to immolate 
themselves in such desperate enterprise as revolution, but 
in the terrible reaction, the prostration, the terrorism, the 
disorganization that ensued. Through many a long and 
dreary year the country suffered for the delirium of that 
time. 



CHAPTER IX. 

AFTER-SCENES. 



A shot fired from that farm-house fortalice at Ballingary 
on the 29th of July went -very near to diverting, in a re- , a 
markable manner, the current of recent Irish history. In !S1 
the deadly fire which the police directed on the insurgents, jj 
a bullet struck a young Kilkenny engineer student (who was n 
acting as aide or lieutenant to O'Brien), badly shattering his i % 
leg, and otherwise disabling him. Disregarding his wound 
he refused to retire till the utter failure of the attack was- 
evident and the people were in full retreat. Then he wai 
borne from the spot and hurried off to the mountains, where 
hidden in a peasant sheeling, he lay till he was so far re 
covered as to be able to continue his flight. His name was • 
James Stephens. That bullet missed the life of the future 
leader and chief of the Fenian conspiracy. 

He and Michael Doheny linked their fortunes as fugitives ; 
and of all the narratives of escape that might be told of that 
unhappy time — stories of painful sufferings, of keen priva- 
tions, of desperate hazards and almost fatal dangers — theirs 
unquestionably would be the most astonishing. For two 
months they were hunted over mountain and moor, through 
the southern and southwestern seaboard counties, hiding in 
the heather and the bogside, or sheltered in some peasant's 
hut, sentineled in their brief and feverish slumbers by the 
humble owner of the dwelling. Frequently the closeness of 
pursuit compelled them to double back on the district it had 
cost them much suffering to get over ; and often, in order to 
reach a point directly distant but an hour's walk, they had to 

126 



AFTER-SCENES. 127 

nake a detour of several miles. Their great anxiety was 
o reach some harbor, whence a boat might put them off to a 
>assing ship. Doheny tells of their endeavors to cross the 
£nockmeldoun Mountains, and how on the southern side of 
nose lofty hills they came on the famous Trappist monastery 
>f Melleray. " It was Sunday ; the cold and wet of the 
)revious evening had given way to calm and sunshine, and 
ve made rapid way along the slopes of the Comerahs. The 
greatest difficulty we experienced was in passing deep ravines. 
The steep ascent and descent were usually wooded and cov- 
jred with furze and briers. Far below gurgled a rapid and 
wollen mountain-stream, which we crossed without undress- 
ng, and always experienced the greatest relief from the cold 
unning water. But toiling our upward way through trees 
ind thorny shrubs was excessively fatiguing. About three 
D'clock in the evening we reached the picturesque grounds 
3f Mount Melleray Abbey. We had then traveled thirty 
aiiles of mountain without any food. The well-known hos- 
pitality of the brothers was a great temptation to men in our 
situation, pressed by toil and hunger ; but we felt that we 
possibly might compromise the abbot and brethren, and we 
determined on not making ourselves known. We entered 
the beautiful chapel of the abbey and ascended the gallery 
while vespers were being sung. We found we were alone on 
the gallery, and had an opportunity of changing our stock- 
ings and wiping the blood from our feet. We remained 
upward of an hour, and then set out but little refreshed." 

Skirting Cork city, they passed westward to the wild 
mountain-regions of Bantry, Glengariffe, and Kenmare. 
Doheny 's literary habits and poetic inspirations were not to 
be suppressed, if indeed the latter were not rather aroused 
into greater activity, by the sufferings and perils of an out- 
law's life. In the course of this flight he penned several of 
his most touching ballads, jotting down the words on the 
back of an old letter or on the margin of a newspaper. In 
one of these poems, addressed to Ireland and written in a 



128 NEW IRELAND. 

hut on the Glengariffe Mountains, he bewails the fate oi ft 
himself and comrades : 

****** 
" 'Twas told of thee the world around, 
'Twas hoped from thee by all, 
That with one gallant sunward boun£ 

Thou'dst burst long ages' thrall 
The moment came, alas ! and those 

Who peril'd all for thee 
Were cursed and branded as thy foes ; 
A cuisla gal ma chree. 

****** 
" I've run the outlaw's brief career, 
And borne his load of ill — 
The troubled rest, the ceaseless fear — 

With fix'd sustaining will ; 
And should his last dark chance befall, 

Even that will welcome be : 
In death I'll love thee most of all, — 
A cuisla gal ma chree." 

In one of his gloomiest and most despondent hours — news 
had reached him of the lamentable privations endured byj 
Mrs. Doheny in her endeavors to track him through the 
hills — he wrote " The Outlaw's Wife," of which the follow- 
ing is the first stanza : 

" Sadly silent she sits with her head on her hand, 

While she prays in her heart to the Ruler above 
To protect and to guide to some happier land 

The joy of her soul and the spouse of her love ; 
And she marks by her pulses so wild in their play 

The slow progress of time as it straggles along, 
And she lists to the wind as 'tis moaning away, 

And she deems it the chant of some funeral song." 

At Kenmare Doheny and Stephens met the friendly hearts 
and hands that were eventually to effect their rescue. I 
believe I name publicly for the first time the family to whom 
those hapless fugitives were thus indebted, — the kinsmen and 



AFTER-SCENES. 129 

iriends of Mr. MacCarthy Downing, now member of Parlia- 
nent for Cork County. Indeed, I believe that honorable 
gentleman himself was most directly instrumental in ar- 
pnging the escape. Stephens was got off to France as a 
Brant accompanying a lady of the family. Doheny went 
m board the " Sabrina" steamer at Cork quay driving some 
Dullocks which he was to accompany to Bristol. From the 
atter city he easily made his way to London, and thence to 
Paris, where not only Stephens, his late companion, but 
Dthers of the escaped Confederate leaders gave him an en- 
thusiastic welcome. 

He proceeded soon after to America, and settled in New 
York ; but fortune did not smile on him, though if a genial 
aature and a generous heart could have commanded wealth, 
Doheny should have been a millionaire. He died in 1862. 
Two little children, boys of three and five years respectively, 
accompanied much of their mother's wanderings while the 
father Avas a fugitive in 1848. Eighteen hundred and sixty- 
seven found them grown to man's estate, and inmates of 
Mountj oy Prison, Dublin, for complicity in the Fenian con- 
spiracy ! 

It is a singular fact that none of the numerous insurgent 
fugitives who were hiding or flying all over the country were 
betrayed to their pursuers. There was a price upon each 
head, — a tempting reward for apprehension or informa- 
tion, — and minute personal descriptions of the accused, as 
given in the Hue and Cry, were profusely distributed to as- 
sist in identification.* They had perforce to demand shelter 

* Some of these descriptions in the Government Hue and Cry were 
certainly remarkable literary efforts. " Thomas D. Wright," one of 
the Tipperary insurgents, is set down as "very talkative, and thinks 
himself a great politician ; supposed to be at present in the City or 
Cove of Cork, as he sailed to America from Liverpool on the 13th of 
August last." "John Sexton," was described as having "two blue 
eyes and blind of one of them ; " but in a subsequent issue this was 
corrected, and he was pictured as a man " with one blue eye and blind 
of one eye." "John Lee" is declared to have "brown eyes which 
G* 



130 NEW IRELAND. 

and rest from the poorest of the poor ; the famine still 
lingered in the land ; and in no case were the peasants at a 
loss to guess who these applicants for concealment were. 
The wretched owners of hovels where some of them were 
housed for days were utterly destitute. I myself knew one 
such instance. Dermeen Lynch, of Dromgarriff, beneath 
whose roof Doheny and Stephens were hidden and fed for 
two days, was a recipient of out-door relief. Dermeen knew 
very well he had but to give a signal to the police sergeant 
in the Glen below, and three hundred pounds — "wealth 
untold" in his estimation — was within his grasp. But hia 
sorest trouble was lest harm should overtake them while 1 
under his roof. I often talked with him and his wife over 
it all afterward. He was terribly sorry they ever came, and 
very glad when they went away ; but while they were on 
his floor he would die rather than "sell " them. 

It was said that the father of Thomas Francis Meagher 
— a wealthy Waterford merchant, who greatly deplored 
" Tom's " rebellious politics — employed four brigantines to 
cruise off the southern and western coasts to facilitate his 
escape. But he never got far from the scene of the out- 
appears as if he had shaved his whiskers." The following is copied 
verbatim et literatum from the Hue and Cry of December 2, 1848 : 
" Description of a woman name unknown who stands charged with 
having on the 26 Nov. at Ballyhenry in the Barony of Ikerin entered 
the dwelling-house of Thomas Sweeny and threatened to blow the con- 
tents of a pistol through James Hendy who lived in the next house to 
said Sweeny but who happened to be from home at the time : She is 
twenty -three years of age five feet nine inches high, stout make, fair 
complexion, fair hair, grey eyes ; wore a felt hat, blue body coat, dark 
trousers, and striped vest, a native of the county Tipperary." 

In 1857, while traveling in America, I found myself a welcome 
guest in a charming little frame-work villa near Binghamton, at the 
junction of the Susquehanna and the Chenango Bivers. My host, 
then a happy and prosperous member of the American bar, was the 
identical "Thomas D. Wright" who, according to the Hue and Cry 
of August, 1848, was " supposed to be at present in the City or Cove 
of Cork" because "he sailed to America" three weeks previously. 



AFTER-SCENES. 131 

break in Tipperary. He certainly might hare made good 
his way out of the country had he cared to put forth any 
great exertion so to do ; but, seeing how completely the at- 
tempt he was engaged in had failed, he thought a prompt 
and decisive acquiescence in that result on the part of the 
leaders and their adherents would avert much public dis- 
turbance and personal suffering. He thought also that such 
a course on the part of the leaders, like himself, as yet at 
large, might secure better terms for those who had been 
captured. Accordingly from his asylum in the mountains 
he carried on, through an influential Catholic clergyman of 
the district, a correspondence or negotiation with the Gov- 
ernment, offering to surrender, and to advise his friends to 
a like course, on certain conditions assured for O'Brien. 
These efforts came to naught. On the night of the 12th of 
August a police patrol on the road from Cashel to Holycross 
passed three pedestrians. The usual friendly salutations 
were exchanged between the parties, and each went its way. 
Suddenly it occurred to the police officer that there was 
something beyond the common in the voice and manner of 
the traveler who had spoken to him. He turned back and 
overtook the party. He wished to question one of them 
privately, but the individual thus accosted resented such a 
course. "Whatever you have to say to me must be said in 
the hearing of my friends," he exclaimed. "I have to call 
upon you, then, in the Queen's name to tell me who you 
are," said the sergeant, adding rather apologetically, "You 
know these are troubled times, gentlemen, and we are 
obliged to be particular." "All quite right, my friend," re- 
plied the spokesman of the party. " I am Thomas Francis 
Meagher." " I," said one of his companions, " am Maurice 
Richard Leyne ; " * "And I," added the other, " am Patrick 
O'Donoghue." 

* Leyne was a fine dashing young fellow, genial, generous, chival- 
rous. He was a relative of O'Connell, and was the only member of 
that family who sided with the Young Ireland party against the great 



132 NEW IRELAND. 

Dillon, after severe sufferings, got on board an emigrant- 
ship sailing from Galway to New York. He was disguised 
as a Catholic priest. Some clerical friend fully equipped 
him in suitable attire, and presented him with a missal, 
which, by the way, it was remarked he read (or pretended to 
be reading) a great deal oftener than a veritable clergyman 
would think of doing. On board the same ship, utterly un- 
known to him, was a personal friend, another of the fugi- 
tives, who was equally ignorant of Dillon's presence, — Mr. 
Patrick J. Smyth, now member of Parliament for West- 
meath. The vessel had been to sea for some days, when 
Dillon was alarmed by noticing one of the steerage-passen- • 
gers — a man dressed as a cattle- drover — eying him in a de 
cidedly suspicious manner. "It is a detective," thought 
the pseudo-priest: "he recognizes me, and I am lost." 
Next day his embarrassment was intensified by finding the 



tribune. In July, 1854, he died, I might almost say in my arms, not 
far from the scene of this arrest. The day after we had buried him 
in the church-yard of Thurles, two of his brothers and myself strolled 
to Holycross, distant three miles, to see the ruined abbey of that name. 
We rested a while and took some refreshment in the neat little way- 
side inn at the abbey gate. One of my companions, whose resemblance 
to his brother Maurice was remarkable, entered into conversation with 
the proprietress as she busied herself in attending to us. After a 
while she looked earnestly at him. " If you please, sir, are you any- 
thing to the gentleman that was buried in town yesterday?" she in- 
quired. " Yes," he replied ; "why do you ask?" Her eyes filled with 
tears. " Oh, you are so like him, as he sat there, where you are sit- 
ting this blessed minute, and asked me for a little bread and milk, the 
evening before he and Mr. Meagher and the other gentleman were 
took by the police on the road beyond ! " And the poor woman sobbed 
outright as she gave us several particulars of their movements on that 
day and night. Two years ago, passing through Thurles, I sought 
the grave of my friend Leyne. The grass was high in the rank soil ; 
only after long search I found the spot. Above it stood a simple slab, 
on which some kindly hand had placed his name and an apt quota- 
tion : " He whose virtues deserved a temple, now scarce commands a 
stone." 



AFTER-SCENES. 133 

countryman ever and anon throwing rather familiar glances 
and furtive nods and winks at him. Eventually, coming 
close up to him on one pretext or another, the cattle-drover, 
in a hoarse under-breath, hurriedly whispered, "All right : 
I'm Smyth. " Dillon started back in utter amazement, ex- 
claiming, " Smyth ! " "Hush ! " responded the other ; " we 
may be watched ; " and they separated in the style of priest 
and peasant, Dillon ostentatiously giving the "countryman" 
a parting benediction. 

But a new trouble fell on "his reverence." Among the 
emigrants were a youthful pair of lovers, who, much mis- 
trusting what uncertainties might befall in the great land 
beyond, suddenly conceived the idea of getting married 
there and then on board, "seeing as how there was a priest 
in the ship, just ready to hand." They applied to Dillon to 
perform the ceremony. His dismay was inconceivable. He 
most piously exhorted them to wait till they landed. No. 
"With the blessing of God, now was the time." He in- 
vented a dozen excuses, all in vain, until he fortunately be- 
thought him of the plea that he had not "faculties" from 
his bishop that would avail in such a peculiar case. 

An accident divulged his secret. One day the sea ran high 
and the ship pitched and rolled violently. At dinner his 
reverence sat on the right hand of the captain, and was being 
helped to some mutton, when the ship suddenly lurched and 
flung dish, joint, and gravy full into his bosom. He bounced 
from his seat with a thundering oath, followed by a string 
of most unpriestly expletives, quite forgetting himself, till 
he saw the company staring at him in a strange way. The 
captain especially, who shouted in laughter, seemed enlight- 
ened by the incident. "Ah, my dear sir," said he to Dil- 
lon, "I have had my suspicions for some time. I can guess 
what you are. Be not afraid. You are safe from fear or 
harm." From that day forth Dillon and Smyth resumed 
their real character, and were the object of kindliest atten- 
tion from the honest English sailor. 



134 NEW IRELAND. 

Bichard O'Gorman — "Young Bichard" — escaped in 
ship sailing from Limerick to Constantinople. His father, 
Bichard O'Gorman, senior, was a wealthy Dublin merchant, W 
who took a leading part in the Catholic Emancipation and 1 ' 4 ' 11 
Bepeal movements. The Irish metropolis boasted no man 
more esteemed for his personal virtues, none who stood 1 
higher in commercial or political integrity. The old gentle- 
man seceded along with the Young Irelanders from O'Connell, 
and was a member of the Irish Confederation. He was not, 
however, swept off his feet by the revolutionary " tidal wave" 
in February, and was, I believe, utterly opposed to the course 
of action into which his friends and associates — keener stroke 
still, his only son along with them — were rashly hurried. 
At Constantinople young O'Gorman and his friend John 
O'Donnell lay concealed until they Avere able to obtain pass- 
ports to Algiers. John O'Mahony, a gentleman farmer of 
Kilbeheny, Tipperary, whose high-treason contribution was 
an attempt to effect a rising during the progress of Smith 
O'Brien's trial, sailed from Bonmahon to Wales, and thence 
by way of London to Paris. MacManus was a prosperous 
forwarding agent in Liverpool when he suddenly quitted the 
counting-house and rushed across to Ireland to join Smith 
O'Brien, as whose second in command he figured at Ballin- 
gary Common. He succeeded in baffling all the vigilance 
of pursuit and getting on board an emigrant-ship, the "N. 
D. Chase," bound from Liverpool to America. With joyful 
heart he saw her put to sea ; but unhappily for him some 
trifling mishap caused the captain to run for Queenstown. 
A merchant's clerk in Liverpool had, a week previously, 
robbed his employers, and was supposed to have got off in 
this ship. She was boarded in Queenstown harbor by the 
police in quest of the absconding clerk. The passengers 
were paraded, the clerk was not found, but a Liverpool 
policeman quickly recognized a much more valuable prize 
in Terence Bellew MacManus. 

There is in many respects a dismal sameness about state 



AFTER-SCENES. 135 

.rials for high treason, and yet they seem to have a weird inter- 
est for spectator and for reader. Meager and terse as are the 
eports which we possess of the so-called trials in which the 
ast of the Tudors rid themselves of supposed or real "trai- 
*>rs," they have a gloomy fascination all their own, and por- 
tray for us more faithfully than many more elaborate efforts 
lo the condition of public affairs at that time. It may be 
:ruly said that for four weeks, extending from the 23 d of 
September to the 21st of October, the attention of Ireland 
was riveted on the Tipperary County Court-house in Clon- 
mel, where the insurgent leaders William Smith O'Brien, 
Thomas Francis Meagher, and Terence Bellew MacManus 
were on trial for their lives. O'Brien was defended b.y 
Mr. Whiteside, Q.C. (afterward Lord Chief Justice of the 
Queen's Bench), Mr. Francis Fitzgerald, Q.C, and Sir Cole- 
man O'Loghlen, Q.C. Meagher was defended by Mr. White- 
side, Q.C, and Mr. Isaac Butt, Q.C; MacManus by the 
same bar. Of their conviction there could have been little 
doubt. No skill of advocacy could struggle against the facts 
of the case. But there was at least one incident of the trials 
which created an unprecedented sensation. It became known 
that the defense intended to subpoena Major-General Sir 
Charles Napier and the Prime Minister, Lord John Eussell. 
What was this for ? It was for a purpose the effectuation of 
which, though subsequently found to be technically forbidden 
by the rules of evidence, would certainly have thrown a start- 
ling light upon the conduct and fate of the men in the dock. 
General Napier was summoned to give up a letter in his pos- 
session proving that men at that moment holding office as 
ministers of the Crown, Lord John Eussell, the First Minis- 
ter, included, had in 1831-32 secretly devised and arranged 
for a proceeding precisely similar to that for which these pris- 
oners were now on trial, namely, a resort to arms, a popular 
rising, in order to compel the Government to yield the popu- 
lar demands. It was, to be sure, pretty well known that at 
that period the English Reform leaders were under the im- 



136 NEW IBELAND. 

pression that the threatened "march of Birmingham on 
London " might have to be carried out ; but that they had 
gone so far as to arrange details of the revolutionary move- 
ment, and had selected the military men on whom they relied 
to take command of the insurgents, was a story which stag- 
gered all belief. Yet so it was. In truth, the course adopted 
by the Irish Kepeal Confederates in 1848 was in many respects 
almost identical with that adopted by the English Keform | 
Confederates in 1831 and 1832. In the summer of 1831 
the Lords threw out the Reform Bill, and the Reform Min- 
istry appealed to the country in a general election. Not alone 
in this direction was their appeal energetically pushed. It was 
also decided that failing any other means an armed revolution 
was to clear the road blocked up by the obstructive House of 
Peers. Political clubs or "unions " were established all over 
the country, the " National Political Union " of London being 
the head center. Every Englishman between twenty-five and 
forty-five was called on to enroll himself and to learn " how 
to resist oppression." The great object was to effect what the 
Times of that date called " a national armament for a reform 
of law. " So much was open, public, known to the world. 
But something of what was passing behind the scenes is 
revealed in the following "secret and confidential" letter of 
Lord Melbourne's private secretary, Mr. Thomas Young, to 
General C. J. Napier, written from the Home Office ("H. 
0.") on the date which it bears : 

"H. O., June 25, '32. 

"My dear Napier, — 

" Sir H. Bunbury told me of your wise determination not to become 
' a Parliament man/ at least for the present. The offer was very tempt- 
ing, and you have the more merit in declining-. I refrained from writing 
to you while the matter was undecided, for I did not wish to obtrude 
my opinion ; but I felt that reason was against your acceptance, as your 
health, your purse, and your comfort would all have suffered by your 
attendance in the House of Commons. The History must have been laid 
aside. You could not, moreover, have been a calm and silent member, 
but would have been exerting yourself to push onward the movement 



AFTER-SCENES. 137 

aster than it probably will march, or than, perhaps, all things consid- 
red, it is desirable that it should march. 

" Let us go back a moment. 

" The display of energy, and a readiness to act, on the part of the peo- 

)le when the Duke of W was on the eve of coming in was greater 

ar than I expected. I speak not of the Cockneys, but of the men in 
he north, — Glasgow, Newcastle, Birmingham. Are you aware that in 
he event of a fight you were to be invited to take the command at Bir- 
mingham ? Parkes got a frank from me for you with that view, but 
lad no occasion to send it. Had he written, I should have fired a dis- 
patch at you with my friendly and anxious counsel and entreaty to keep 
p-ou quiet and not to stir from Fresh ford. It is not well to enter early 
uto revolutions : the first fall victims. What do you think would have 
happened ? The Reformers — Place, etc. — talked big to me, and felt as- 
sured of success. The run upon the banks, and the barricading of the 
populous country towns, would have brought matters to a crisis ; a week 
they, the Reformers, thought would finish the business. They meant 
so to agitate here that no soldiers could have been spared from London ; 
and the army is too small elsewhere to have put down the rebels. In 
Scotland I believe the most effectual blow would have been struck ; 
and it seems difficult to have resisted the popular movement. The 
Tories, however, say the Duke would have succeeded. No doubt the 
discipline under which soldiers live might have proved a stronger ele- 
ment than the public enthusiasm, i. e., unless the latter was universal 
or extensive, and then it would have carried all before it. The task 
would have been to bring back society to its former quiet state. Thank 
God we have been spared the trial ; but as a matter of speculation, tell 
me what you think would have been the result ? Am I right in my 
conjecture that you would have refused the Birmingham invite and 
kept your sword in its scabbard ? — Tours ever truly, 

" T. T. 

"Thanks for your first volume. Jones has come back better." 

This was very much the plan O'Brien, Meagher, and Dil- 
lon seemed to have in view. By keeping the metropolis in 
a state of excitement, menace, and alarm, the chief portion 
of the troops would be detained therein, while the " barri- 
cading of the populous towns " would have brought matters 
to a crisis in the provinces. They too thought it would be 
" difficult to have resisted the popular movement," and that 
"public enthusiasm" "would have carried all before it." 



138 NEW IRELAND. 

None of them, however, could now exclaim, " Thank God By 
we have been spared the trial." They were not spared it,# 
and the result to them was ruin. m 

As to "my dear Napier," the Eeform Confederates in the: i U 
"H. 0." mistook their man. Sir Charles was much of n| 
Radical, but he was more of a soldier. He had very sternt 
ideas of discipline and loyalty, and he quite fired up on 
receipt of "T. Y.'s" astounding communication, in which 
he was so cleverly "felt" as to whether he would not have 
drawn his sword as an insurgent commander. He replied 
in terms of strong indignation. He called the proposition 1 5 
an insult to his honor as a soldier and his loyalty as a sub- 
ject. As to the communication being "confidential," he 
repelled any obligation of confidence between him and " con- 
spirators." He would, however, he said, make no public; 
use of the letter unless in one event, namely, if ever any of ' 
the men who were concerned in this 1831 business attempted 
to prosecute others for similar designs, he would hold him- 
self at liberty to hand over the letter as a punishment on its 
authors and a warning to all whom it might concern. 

This event exactly had arisen, and Sir Charles at once 
gave "T. Y.'s" letter to the public. 

It was not allowed to be put in evidence at Clonmel. Two 
wrongs do not make a right. In the eye of the law it could 
be no excuse for William Smith O'Brien that Lord Mel- 
bourne or Mr. Attwood, or Lord John Eussell or Mr. Young, 
had intended if necessary to do in 1831 what he conspired 
to attempt in 1848. So O'Brien and Meagher, and Mac- 
Manus and O'Donohue, having been found guilty of high 
treason, were sentenced to be hanged, beheaded, disem- 
boweled, and quartered. 

The revelations of the "T. Y." letter had, however, one 
striking result : they rendered impossible the execution of 
this death-sentence. Although in Spain the successful rebel 
of Monday who is the prime minister of Tuesday orders the 
unsuccessful conspirator of Wednesday to be shot on Thurs- 



AFTER-SCENES. 139 

ay, it was felt that for "T. Y.'s" friends to advise the 
{ueen's signature to O'Brien's death-warrant would be too 
mch for public opinion. There was a legal difficulty in 
he way of avoiding such a terrible event ; but ex post facto 
gislation is quite common and very convenient in Irish 
Hairs. A special act was passed whereby the capital sen- 
ences were commuted in each case to penal servitude beyond 
he seas for life ; and on the 29th of July, 1849, the first 
nniversary of the abortive rising, the war-brig "Swiftsure" 
ailed from Kingstown harbor, bearing O'Brien, Meagher, 
tfacManus, and O'Donohue to the convict settlements of 
Australia. 






CHAPTER X. 

THE CRIMSON STAIN". 



(her 
1 

10 ' 



j 



pi 
ley 

At eleven o'clock on the morning of "Wednesday, 1st of * 
March, 1848, three murderers were led out to die in front of 
Clonmel jail. Around the scaffold were assembled a dense 
throng of people, townsmen and peasants, men and women, 
every eye strained on the three gibbets and the three looped ' " l 
cords that swayed in the morning breeze. In all the crowd 
no voice denied that these men deserved their doom. The ' ' 
crime was black ; the evidence clear ; the conviction just. 
And yet even before the dismal procession of the condemned 
came into view, pitying exclamations might be heard bewail- ^ 
ing that they should perish thus " so young." Close by the 
scaffold glittered the bayonets of two companies of the 47th, 
and on the flank the drawn sabers of the 4th Light Dragoons. 
It was plain that the authorities did not choose to trust '° 
merely to the strong party of police which occupied the iie 
other side to guard against eventualities. 

A murmur from the crowd directed attention to a figure 
which appeared on the scaffold. It was the hangman. He 
coolly examined the ropes, and looked to the noose of each to 
see whether it ran smoothly. He tried the drops or traps, 
and shot the bolts to ascertain whether they were clear and 
free. So far the people gazed silently, as these performances ( 
were gone through ; but when they saw him pull out of his 
pocket a piece of soap or grease and apply it to the ropes, a 
yell of indignation arose, and he disappeared through the 
doorway into the jail amidst a storm of execration. 

Soon the prison-bell began to toll, and, as the death-knell 

140 



lit 



THE CRIMSON STAIN. 141 

unded, the crowd fell on their knees. Through the door- 
ly leading to the scaffold there emerged the tall figure of 
ither John Power (the present Catholic Bishop of Water- 
rd), in surplice and soutane ; his voice reciting the Office 
r the Dying, reaching to the farthest bound of the hushed 
itltitude. Then came the prisoners, — three young men, 
fo of them brothers ; and foul as was their crime, one now 
mid understand the compassion of the women in the crowd, 
hey were really fine-looking young peasants ; the eldest 
>uld hardly have been twenty-three. The brothers, Henry 
id Philip Cody, were to be executed for the murder of 
aurence Madden, nine months before ; and John Lonergan 
-"the widow's son," as he was designated by the witnesses 
a the trial — for shooting Mr. William Kae, J. P., at Eock- 
ell. The executioner first put the rope around the neck 
f Lonergan, who asked the people all to pray for him. 
[enry Cody, who stood at the narrow doorway, saw the 
rocess which was so soon to be gone through with himself, 
s if in answer to Lonergan's appeal, he cried aloud, " Lord 
esus, have mercy on us ! Lord, have mercy on him ! Lord, 
ave mercy on us ! " Then the hangman approached the 
ounger Cody, and, having put the cap on his face, began 
3 place the noose on his neck. In so doing, it is thought, 
e made some observation which reached Henry's ear. At 
ound of the voice he started as if pierced by an arrow. He 
eased praying, and was Observed to tremble from head to 
oot. The fact is, it was currently reported, though I believe 
uite groundlessly, that the man who acted as executioner 
ras the identical Crown witness who had, as the people ex- 
pressed it, " sworn away the lives " of the hapless brothers. 
?hat he marvelously resembled him is, at all events, indu- 
itable ; and whether the elder Cody had heard the rumor, 
r recognized, as he fancied, the voice of the "approver," 
here is now no knowing ; but, plainly, he believed this was 
he man. He sprang at the hangman, and, with his bound 
,nd manacled hands, smote him again and again. Then 



142 NEW IRELAND. 

he seized him, dragged him to the front, and by main forced 
tried to fling him over the railing of the scaffold. It was auk 
awful, a horrible sight ! Murderer and hangman gripped ir^ 
deadly struggle, the latter screaming aloud for mercy and 
for help. Beyond doubt, Cody, even with arms strapped and'K 
pinioned, would have succeeded in his deadly purpose had i 
not some of the warders rushed over. The younger brother 
heard the struggle, and knew something unusual had hap-< 
pened ; but, having the cap over his face, he could not see. 
Father Power, fearful lest he might know what it was, kept' 
resolutely at his side, fervently pouring prayers and exhorta- 
tions into his ear. At last Philip heard Henry's voice in the 
struggle, and, despite all the priest could do, he managed ta|> 
tear the covering from his face, when, lo ! he saw his brother 
and the hangman in frightful encounter. He tried to rushj>a 
to Henry's aid, but Father Power flung his arms around 
him. " Oh, my child, my child ! for the sake of that Jesus, $ 
your God who gave Himself to His executioners, do not, do |" 
not ! Oh, think of the Son of God ! oh, think you are go- 1 ^ 
ing to meet your Creator and Judge ! " And the good I p 
priest, fairly overcome, sobbed aloud. Then the unhappy*! 
young man let his head fall on Father Power's shoulder, J n 
and he too cried like a child : " Oh, Henry ! Henry ! My <» 
brother ! My brother ! Oh, God ! Oh, God ! " 

Eye-witnesses of that scene speak of it to-day only with a I 
shudder. The idea of launching into the presence of God n 
men with souls aflame with passion of deadliest hate and j 
vengeance was something dreadful to contemplate ; and 
Father Power appealed to the sheriff to postpone for a while 
the execution. That gentleman himself, utterly shocked 
and indeed overcome, would willingly have complied, but 
there was a legal compulsion then and there to carry out the 
law ; and the brothers, who for a moment had been taken to 
the rear of the scaffold, were again brought forward. The 
people, who throughout had given way to the deepest emo- 
tion, — women crying and wailing, others praying aloud, and 



THE CRIMSON STAIN. 143 

>veral fainting, — thought, for a moment, the execution 
ould be put off. When they saw the condemned led out 
*ain, a roar of grief and anger rose from the crowd, hut at 

gesture from Father PoAver they suddenly hushed, and 
ace more sank on their knees. The three men were held 
a the traps ; the bolts were drawn, and justice was vindi- 
ited, under circumstances such as I hope may never be 
aralleled in our land. 

This was but one day's work out of several of a similar 
liaracter in that spring of 1848. The assizes that year 
r ere heavy, and Tipperary, unfortunately, had contributed a 
loomy calendar. The peasantry of that county, physically 
ne of the finest people in the world, have strong character- 
sties, strangely-mixed vices and virtues. They are hot and 
assionate ; brave and high-spirited ; deadly in their ven- 
eance ; generous, hospitable ; ready to repay kindness with 
indness, hate with hate, violence with violence. When not 
nder the influence of passion, "more fearful than the 
torm that sweeps their hills,'' they are one of the most 
eaceable, orderly, and moral populations in the empire. 
There seems to be hardly any middle character in Tipperary 
ssizes. The calendar is either a blank as to serious offenses, 
>r is black with crimes that tell how lightly human life is 
alued where revenge reduces men to savagery. Many of 
he most serious of these outbursts in that county had their 
rigin in provocation in which technical law and actual jus- 
ice were wof ully antagonized ; and the facts that most deeply 
hock one in contemplating the subject — the cowardly self- 
shness or guilty connivance of eye-witnesses of murder, or 
he sympathy and shelter extended to the assassin — are the 
)vil and accursed fruit of a system which had made the people 
ook upon "law " as an enemy, not a protector. 

It is now some twenty years since, on the occasion of an 
jxecution for murder in Tipperary which agitated all Ireland, 
—the hanging of the brothers Cormack for the murder of 
Mr. Ellis, of Templemore — I decided to go down specially 



iU' 



hi 



144 NEW IRELAND. 

to visit the scene of the crime, being anxious to satisfy my 
self as to the controversy then raging in reference to thejttf 
innocence or guilt of the executed men. During my stay 1 
was the guest of a gentleman whose friendship was a passport! :tl)< 
to the intimate confidence of the peasantry. I spent some ic 
time in driving and riding with him through the county || ie 
and not only did I ascertain the real history of the particular! © 
case I came to investigate, but I gathered from sources ac- 
cessible to few a goodly store of information on the wholei d 
subject of the land-feud in Tipperary. It was very evident^ 
that nothing less than a state of war, sullenly smoldering 
or fiercely bursting into flame, had prevailed for half a cen- 
tury between class and class in that county. The later 
troubles commenced with nocturnal raids for arms. Long 
before they took the shape of personal violence or direct: ro 
attempt on life, the disturbances in Tipperary seemed to havet'dl 
entirely for their object the possession of such guns, pistols, Jlfii 
or blunderbusses as could be obtained by attacking the houses || 
of the gentry. Every night the country was scoured byj 
parties of men demanding arms, and taking them by force I 
where refused. As might have been easily foreseen, this very iai 
speedily and inevitably led to life-taking on both sides ; and In 
then, blood once spilt, a dreadful state of things ensued. The <iii 
audacity and daring of the peasantry in some of these attacks in 
were truly marvelous. They publicly erected a barricade i ! 
across the mail-coach road in the parish of Boherlahan, near ( f c 
Clonoulty, in order to rob, not the mail-bag or its contents, II 
but the arms of the mail-guard. The fact that the coach was ip 
known to have a dragoon escort, so far from deterring them, 
only offered a greater inducement to the enterprise ; for the 
dragoons carried sabers and carbines. Two of the peasantry, I 
a man named Lahy, and another named Byan, were told off 1 
the night before to encounter the dragoons while two others || 
attacked the coach. At the first volley one of the dragoons 
fell dead. The other fled. The coach-guards made more 
resolute defense. For five minutes a deadly fire was main- 



TEE CIUMSON STAIN. 145 

iijlined between them and the assailants ; but eventually the 

in iter prevailed, and all the guns and pistols in the coach, 

jven stand of arms, were handed over. Strange to say, none 

the attacking party were seriously wounded, though beside 

e dragoon who was killed some of the guards and two of 

e passengers suffered more or less severely. Listening to 

ese narratives from eye-witnesses, and in some instances, I 

ore than suspect, participators, what most perplexed and 

ol( nfounded me was the way in which, in the midst of some 

i isode of lawlessness and sanguinary violence, some trait of 

a; ielity or act of generosity would appear "like a fly in 

11 aber." The "servant-boy," who would go out at night 

ei in turn" to rob other houses, would quite resolutely defend 

i{ s own master's residence against his companions, on the 

ci "ound that it was "not fair" to approach a door intrusted 

» his care. The house of a Mr. Fawcett, a Protestant gen- 

sjeman farmer near Cashel, was attacked, of all clays in the 

3ar, on a Christmas-day. The gentleman himself was away 

i Dublin ; and the place was in charge of his son, aged 

venty, and a servant-boy named Gorman. A servant-girl 

iw a party of men coming up the lawn, and, guessing their 

rrand, she rushed in and gave the alarm. Gorman recog- 

ized them well enough; he had been "out" with them 

lany a night on similar work ; but now he was in charge of 

the master's " property, and he would defend it. He and 

oung Fawcett barricaded the hall door and windows. Some 

f the assailants got in through the rear of the house, but a 

ross-door in the hall barred their way to where the guns 

rhich they wanted were kept. This they sought to force, 

l-orman expostulating and threatening to fire. They seem 

ot to have credited this, and persisted, when, finding the 

oor likely to yield, he aimed through a small fan-light at 

he top and mortally wounded the chief assailant, a young 

aan named Buckley. The party fled, carrying their dis- 

bled leader ; but eventually they found that escape was 

mpossible with a wounded man, streaming with blood, in 

7 



146 NEW IRELAND. 

their arms. What were they to do ? They hid him in somi 
brushwood near a running stream, telling him on no accounl 
to make a noise, and promising that they would return foi 
him at night. He endured great agony from thirst, andJ 
his resolution giving way, he cried aloud for water. Some 
women coming from mass heard the moans, and discovering 
where he lay, brought him some water in his hat. This 
done, he implored them to "pass on, and say nothing.' 
They knew what was meant and silently went their way, 
When night fell, his companions returned with a door oei| , 
which to bring him home ; but as they were fording the Suhj 
at Ballycamus they discovered that it was a corpse they were 
bearing. He was dead ! Deciding not to shock his pooi 
mother by bringing the body to the door, they concealed i{i| 
in a brake, setting watches to guard it day and night till 
they could give it suitable interment. By this time, oi)u 
course, tidings of the attack on Mr. Fawcett's house had 
reached the authorities, and Mr. Wilcox, K.M., and Cap-' 
tain Long, J. P., of Longfield, with a strong party of police, 
commenced to search from house to house for a wounded 
man, so as to get a clue to his companions. Gorman, who ]n 
had shot Buckley, and who knew him well, declared that all] 
the assailants were utter strangers ! Buckley's companions^ 
made a levy on the associates throughout the barony, and| B 
raised fifty pounds for his mother, to whom they broke the [ 
news of his fate. When the magistrates asked her where [ 
her son was, she said he had gone to seek work near Cahir, 
Buckley had a grand midnight funeral ; but some one I 
"peached;" Captain Long got word of the burial, and ^ 
next night, at the head of a party of police, came to disinter 
the body and examine it. Some one, however, peached on 
the police too, for an hour before they arrived at the grave- 
yard the coffin had been dug up by Buckley's comrades and 
carried off to the mountains. It is a positive fact that for 
two months this chase after the corpse went on : four or five 
times it was buried, and as often hurriedly disinterred. At 



i 



> 



TEE CRIMSON STAIN. 147 

igth the scarcli had to be given up, and one night Buck- 
y was borne back to his father's grave at Ballyshchan, 
here he lias since lain. The dismal sequel to this strange 
ory is that Captain Long, for having exerted himself so 
itively in the endeavor to discover Buckley's associates, 
s shot dead in his own house some few months subse- 
aently. 

"Cut" Quinlan is a name that will long be remembered 

i Tipperary. Two brothers Quinlan, Michael and "Cut," 

the latter a soubriquet — lived in the parish of Anacarthy, 

ot far from the Limerick Junction railway-station. They 

eld a small farm from a Mr. Black. On the same estate 

ved four brothers, named Hennessy, one of whom filled the 

angerous office of " rent-warner " to Mr. Black. The Quin- 

ns were evicted, and they suspected the Hennessys had led 

[r. Black to the act, — a suspicion strengthened to conviction 

hen the land from which they had been dispossessed was 

iven to the Hennessys. In that hour a frightful purpose 

bok possession of "Cut." It was nothing less than a re- 

olve to pursue to death every one of the Hennessys. The 

ent-warner, Dennis, was shot about three months after the 

viction of the Quinlans. Tom Hennessy was waylaid and 

aurdered on the public road from Anacarthy to Graffon. No 

vidence could be found to connect " Cut " with either crime, 

hough no one doubted his guilt. Davy Hennessy, seeing 

hat destruction awaited the family, emigrated to America. 

lere, however, he was encountered and shot dead by the 

ounger Quinlan. What became of the fourth Hennessy I 

lever heard. '* Cut " Quinlan now gave himself up to a 

areer of desperation, constituting himself a sort of general 

ivenger against bailiffs, agents, landlords, and all other 

' oppressors " in the county. A peasant widow in consider- 

ible distress had her scanty household goods and farm-stock 

eized for poor-rate. Three keepers who were in charge of 

;he seizure were spending the night in the parlor of the 

louse, when suddenly about midnight the window was dashed 



148 NEW IRELAND. 

in and the blood-thirsty " Cut " sprang into the room. Thi 
bailiffs knew they had no mercy to expect, and tried to mak« 
for the door. He shot one dead. Another in his terror att 
tempted to escape up the chimney. The murderer pulleciw 
him down by the feet and blew out his brains with a pistolt i 
shot. The third by this time had jumped through the win 
dow and got out. Quinlan followed, overtook, and shot hinu 
No one survived to tell the bloody tale to judge or jury, anti 
the assassin walked abroad unpunished. 

At length " Cut " began to find that popular feeling had 
been decidedly revolted by his career, and things were getting 
uncomfortable for him. He disappeared, no one for some 
time knew whither. Eventually letters reached Anacarthyj 
to say that "Cut " had enlisted in the service of the Queen, 
and was now in India. Years flew by. Sobraon, Aliwal, 
and Chillianwallah had stirred the heart of England, and! 
the glory-crowned troops of Great Britain came home to re 
ceive a nation's welcome. In their ranks returned "Cut" 
Quinlan. He had fought through the Sutlej campaign, hadl 
distinguished himself as the most daring and courageous,, 
and, incredible as it sounds, one of the best-conducted meni 
in the regiment ! He took his discharge from the army, andl 
came back to Tipperary, where it soon became notorious thatt 
he was once more the leader in every outrage. One day 
Father Mullaly, parish priest of Anacarthy, was riding home 
from a sick call, when he overtook " Cut." " Quinlan," said 
he, "I heard you conducted yourself well in India. I wish 
to God you had stayed there, for your own sake and every 
one else's ! " 

" Shure, yer reverence, where should one come to but his 
native place ? " 

"Ah, Quinlan, the place for one to come to is where he 
will not revolt God and man with crime." 

" Crime ! yer reverence ! Crime ! is it me " 

" Silence, sir ! don't attempt this trifling with me. You 
know well, Quinlan, the life you've been leading. You have 



TEE CRIMSON STAIN. 149 

% scaped- the law for want of evidence, but you won't escape 

m }od. His justice will not be balked. Wretched man, you have 

nl <een in the thick of battle in India. While bullets rained 

119 round you, God spared you, perhaps to give you yet another 

ui liance of repentance. I had hoped when you came home 

d hat I should see you a reformed man. I am your pastor ; 

a }od will require of me an account of your soul, will ask what 

at ;fforts I have made to bring you to the paths of virtue. Oh, 

vretched man ! I implore of you, by the merciful God whose 

forbearance you are outraging, give up your course of crime. 

agpome to the tribunal of penance, and by hearty sorrow 

aemd honest life endeavor to repair the scandal you have 

jivcn." 

During the delivery of this appeal "Cut "looked on every 

1, ?idc to see if he could escape by a run ; but he knew Father 

Mullaly well ; and furthermore he knew Father Mullaly's 

Dob could take fence and dike like a greyhound. He could 

not fly, and had to listen. 

" Well, Quinlan, will you make up your mind to come to 
confession, in the name of God ? " 

"Well, yer reverence, shure 'tis you that can spake hard 
to a boy, only I know you mane it for good." 

" But will you come ? Answer me, sir." 

" Oh ! will I, is it ? Well, do ye see, sir — of course 'tis 
right I should go to my duty." 

" But will you promise ? " 

There was a long pause. 

"I will, yer reverence." 

"But when ? next Saturday ?" 

" Ah, now, Father Mullaly, you're coming too hard on me 
entirely. There are raysons why I can't go." 

"Keasons why you can't become reconciled with Almighty 
God, by repenting your past crimes and resolving to amend 
in the future ? " 

" Well, now, yer reverence, the fact of it is there's a thief 
of a Scotchman beyant there that I '" 



150 NEW IRELAND. 

" What, sir — what ? You don't mean to tell me to my 
face that you meditate more crime " 

" Oh, no, yer reverence : I only mane I'm not ahle yet tc 
say I forgive these infernal Scotchmen who come over here 
taking ten or twenty farms from honest people ; begor, taking , 
a whole country-side for a sheep-walk, and the people turned 
Out to die. No, Father Mullaly, I won't go to confession, for 
I can't say 'tis a sin I'd be sorry for to shoot a Scotchman." 

The parish priest, undaunted, returned to the attack, andjj 
pressed " Cut " so hard that at length he promised faithfully 
he would come to confession and "make his peace with God" 
on Saturday. 

On that day Father Mullaly, sitting in his confessional, 
saw " Cut" enter the chapel and kneel on the floor in a se 
eluded spot. The priest waited and waited, till two hours 
flew by. He could see Quinlan in fervent prayer, beating^ 
his breast, and actually wetting the floor with his tears. Bu 
he made no sign toward approaching the confessional. A 
length Father Mullaly had to come away, leaving Quinlan 
still bowed on the floor. A fortnight later they met once 
more, and the parish priest was beginning to reproach " Cut," 
when the latter exclaimed, " Say nothing to me to-day, yer 
reverence. I'm going on Monday." Monday came, and the 
former scene was repeated with like result. Quinlan prayed 
for hours, but avoided the confession. Nearly two months 
elapsed before his reverence was able to catch sight of " Cut," 
who, in fact, was avoiding him. At last they accidentally 
encountered. "Cut," said the priest, "I ask you no more. 
Go now your path of crime. I have done my best, and I 
leave you to God. You are a coward and a liar." 

Quinlan jumped with a spasm of passion, and his eyes 
flashed fire. Curbing himself, however, he said, " No, no, 
Father Mullaly ; no. You never were more wrong in your 
life. I am neither a coward nor a liar, but I know that I'd 
be bound in confession to give up shooting bad landlords, 
and that I never will : so good-by." 



TEE CRIMSON STAIN. 151 

Father Mullaly saw "Cut" no more. But as long as the 
>x runs he is trapped at last. Quinlan was caught almost 
d-handed in a murderous attack, and was tried for it at 
lonmel assizes. He wrote to Chatham, where his former 
giment was now stationed, and told a piteous tale of inno- 
mce to his captain, beseeching him by the memory of cer- 
lin past services to come over to Clonmel and " speak for 
im " in court. According to my informants, who were, I 
elieve, present on the occasion when the trial came on, 
c Cut " paid little attention to the proceedings, but from time 
o time swept the audience with anxious eye. As the case 
ras concluding, Quinlan's former captain hurriedly entered 
nd took a seat in the grand jury box. "My lord," said the 
>risoner, " I have one witness. Hear his story, and say am 
likely to be the man whom these other people think they 
an identify as a murderer." The officer was sworn, and told 
i "Cut "what I have already mentioned, — his exemplary 
onduct, his steadiness, his undaunted bravery. " Most of 
he time he was my own servant," he continued, ' ' and a truer 
oldier never lived. My lord, I owe my life to his fidelity 
md heroism. On the day of Sobraon, when shot and shell 
flew like hail, I fell amidst a heap of our brave fellows torn 
by the enemy's fire. When no man of ordinary courage would 
face that storm of death, this faithful fellow rushed in, care- 
less of his life, found me where I lay, and bore me in his 
arms from the field. Thank God I am here to-day, I hope 
to save his life. He would be incapable of the crime laid to 
his charge." 

Alas for the inconsistencies of human nature, — of Tip- 
perary human nature, at all events ! The jury knew " Cut" 
better and longer than the captain did. The evidence satis- 
fied them of his guilt, and they were otherwise aware of his 
desperate career. They found him guilty of manslaughter, 
and he was transported for life beyond the seas. 

Here, surely, was a strange amalgam. Up to the day of 
his eviction this man had lived the ordinary uneventful life of 






152 NEW IRELAND. 

a peasant. From that hour forth he seemed, like the chai 1> 
acter in Sue's story, " to see blood." He would dare almotiswte 
inevitable death to save his English master. He would ref ug 
every entreaty of his religious pastor and lifetime friend imJtl 
ploring him to turn from a course of merciless vengeance an^ ate 
revolting crime. 

It must be said that thirty or forty years ago the adminisffip 
tration of justice in these cases partook very often of th 
rough-and-ready style. The evil idea of " striking terror, 1 
and the practice of relying too largely on the evidence of " apj Is 
provers," — often perjured villains who had been themselves 
the real criminals, — led betimes to the worst results. OncU; 
cannot spend a night amidst the fireside group in a Tipperarj ce 
farm-house, as I have frequently done, without hearing stories 
of men hanged for offenses of which they were wholly innO' 
cent, the identification being stupidly wrong ; the peasantry] 
will tell you it was willfully false. I was inclined to thinll 
there might be some proclivity to such an impression on the' 
part of the population ; but I am bound to say evidence 
irrefragable convinced me that justice blundered sadly ir^ 
some of those displays of precipitancy and passion, miscalled 
salutary vigor. 

Agrarian crime has not totally disappeared. Evils so 
deep-rooted are not soon or easily expelled. Ever andanom 
even still we are startled and horrified by some incident re-1 
minding us of gloomy days we had fondly hoped were gone 1 
forever. But a thousand signs proclaim that though in 
Ireland, as in England and in every country, crime in various 
shapes will last, in some degree, as long as human passion, 
yet agrarian outrages as we used to know them formerly — 
ghastly campaigns in a sort of civil war — will soon belong 
entirely to the past of Irish history. How the system which 
produced them received its death-blow is a story that will 
come in its proper place. But it is the sad fact that thirty 
years ago Ireland passed through some of the most terrible 
episodes of that dismal struggle. 



THE CRIMSON STAIN. 153 

Two things astonish most persons who, from a distance, 

^ ontemplate agrarian crime in Ireland. The first is the neg- 

!i tive or positive sympathy on the part of the rural population 

lmt appears to surround the criminals ; or, at all events, the 

bsenee of any co-operation with the law in its pursuit of 

hem. The second is a fact I have glanced at in the case of 

Tipperary, namely, that a district the scene of such violence 

s at other intervals and in other respects peaceable, orderly, 

f, lid law-abiding. In the course of many years' observation, 

satisfied myself those outrages — I do not speak of isolated 

Acts of agrarian crime, but of those tempests that, for a time, 

'i -aged in particular districts — had a sort of class history; 

i certain features or characteristics ; certain originating causes 

<( that might be discerned more or less in all of them. Not 

10 in every particular case, certainly, but in most of them, 

I study reveals something like this movement in a vicious 

i circle. 

| A district formerly disturbed has been peaceable for some 
I time. Landlord and tenant have got along very fairly in a 
ii sort of truce, armed or unarmed, negatively hostile or posi- 
tively friendly. After a while some agent less considerate 
than those around him conceives an "improvement," an in- 
crease of rent, a few new " rules of the estate," a batch of evic- 
tions on the title. In the general quietude the thing may be 
done without much noise or resistance, and he succeeds. His 
example is followed and extended. Other agents or landlords 
go on pushing to its utmost limits technical legal right as 
opposed to actual equity. Some one, more reckless than all 
the rest, leads the way. He intimates that he knows how to 
deal with these people. "Firmness," he says, will do it all, 
and he ostentatiously carries revolvers in his coat-pocket. A 
sullen, gloomy calm, which every one accustomed to Irish 
life well knows to be the herald of a storm, seems to assure 
him of immunity. He is fired at, but happily escapes. 
Now he "must make an example." He will not be cowed 
by would-be assassins. Out the threatened tenants must go. 
7* 



154 NEW IRELAND. 

One day the news flashes through the country that this gen- 
tleman has been shot dead under circumstances of great bru- 
tality. A shudder of horror goes through one section of the 
community. A shout of joy or a muttered exclamation of 
approval* is sent forth by another. One portion of the press 
devotes itself to invectives against the murderers and their 
sympathizers; another to denunciations of the conduct on 
the victim's part out of which this tragedy arose. Every 
threatened tenant in the locality and throughout the country 
sees in the assassin an avenger. The blow he has struck is a 
deterrent that will save hundreds. The police are refused 
all assistance in efforts to capture him ; and sheltered by the 
people, he escapes. 

It is at this point all the harm, all the wof ul moral rot and 
social disruption, commence. It is just here all the mischief 
which arises from an antithesis of law and justice sets in. 
Emboldened by the escape of this assassin, or encouraged by 
the sympathy manifested for his guilty deed, some wretch 
with far less cause of complaint than he had, and who but 
for this example of murder would have shrunk from such an 
act, now strikes at some other life. Another and another 
follow, on slighter and slighter provocation, as the moral 
atmosphere becomes more and more tainted by what has gone 
before, until, eventually, every cowardly miscreant who has a 
personal grudge to satiate swells the list of atrocities, and 
crimes are multiplied which disgust and affright even those 

*A near relative of a young friend of mine owns a shop for the sale 
of general merchandise in a large town in the county Mayo. One 
market-day the shop was unusually full of country people, when sud- 
denly some strange stir was noticed among them. Every man in the 
throng was observed, one by one, to lift his hat, and heard to ejaculate 
in a low voice, quite reverentially, " Glory be to God ! " " What has 
happened ? what are you all praying for ? " said the proprietress to one 
of them. " Oh ! glory be to God, ma'am, did you not hear the news ? " 
he replied : " the greatest tyrant in the county Mayo was shot this 
morning I " 



THE CRIMSON STAIN. 155 

who hailed the first shot with a fatal approval. At length 
the hangman's work is found to be in accord with the popu- 
lar conscience. The landlords and agents have fought the 
fight of their class unflinchingly ; but they heartily wish the 
storm had never been raised. The farmers contend that 
the first case was one of frightful provocation, but agree 
that the thing has led to bad work all around. Both sides 
now have had enough of it. The shootings and the hangings 
die out, and for another period of years there is peace and 
tranquillity in the district. ♦ 

I have seen all this, again and again, pass before my eyes. 
Of course the programme was not, in every particular, the 
same in every case ; occasionally a murder for which the 
human mind could conceive no palliation began the accursed 
business ; but in what may be called the more serious out- 
bursts of agrarian violence the general course of the dismal 
story was very much as I have described it. As a rule, the 
first tragedy was one which had some terrible provocation 
behind it. As a rule, the latter outrages were the very 
wantonness of ruffianism and crime. 

I know of no Irish topic on which candid, truthful, and 
independent writing and sjteaking are more rare than this of 
agrarian crime. The outrages in many cases were so fearful 
that no one durst speak a word as to their having had some 
cause, without exposing himself to a charge of palliating or 
sympathizing with them. On the other hand, the provoca- 
tion often was so monstrous that if one execrated the crime 
as it deserved to be, he was supposed to be callously indif- 
ferent to the avidity, the greed, the heartlessness that led up 
to it. Thus, thirty years ago, nay twenty years ago, or less, 
the creation of a healthy public opinion on the subject was 
impossible. We stood arrayed, one and all of us, in one or 
other of two hostile camps : that of the landlords, in appar- 
ent approval of merciless evictions ; or that of the tenants, 
in apparent sympathy with red-handed murder. Yet occa- 
sionally on both sides there must have been many a good 



156 NEW IRELAND. 

man, many a true patriot, who in his secret heart bewailed 
the terrible state of things that thus convulsed and affrighted 
society, and who yearned for the day when the page of 
Ireland's story would be blotted no more by this crimson 
stain. 



CHAPTER XL 

"LOCHABER NO MORE ! " 

A highland friend, whose people were swept away by the 
great " Sutherland Clearances," describing to me some of the 
scenes in that great dispersion, often dwelt with emotion on 
the spectacle of the evicted clansmen marching through the 
glens on their way to exile, their pipers playing, as a last 
farewell, " Lochaber no more ! " 

" Lochaber no more ! Lochaber no more ! 
We'll may -be return to Lochaber no more ! " 

I sympathized with his story ; I shared all his feelings. I 
had seen my own countrymen march in like sorrowful pro- 
cession on their way to the emigrant-ship. Not alone in one 
district, however, but all over the island, were such scenes to 
be witnessed in Ireland from 1847 to 1857. Within that 
decade of years nearly a million of people were "cleared" 
off the island by eviction and emigration. 

A bitter memory is held in Ireland of the "Famine Clear- 
ances," as they are called. There was much in them that was 
heartless and deplorable, much also that was unfortunately 
unavoidable. Three years of dreadful privation had annihi- 
lated the resources of the agricultural population. In 1848, 
throughout whole districts, the tenant-farmers — the weak and 
wasted few who survived hunger and plague — were without 
means to till the soil. The exhaustion of the tenant class 
involved, in numerous cases, the ruin of the landlords. A 
tenantry unable to crop the land were of course unable to 
pay a rent. Many of them, so far from being in a position 

157 



158 NEW IRELAND. 

to pay, rather required the landlord's assistance to enable 
them to liye. 

Apart from all question as to the disposition of the Irish 
landlords to yield such aid, it is the indubitable fact that, 
as a class, they were utterly unable to afford it. Some of 
them nearly extinguished their own interests in their estates 
by borrowing money in 1848, 1849, and 1850, to pull the 
tenants through. 

Too many of the Irish landlords acted differently ; and for 
the course they adopted they were not the only persons to 
blame. The English press at this juncture embraced the 
idea that the Irish Famine, if properly availed of, would 
prove a great blessing. Providence, it was declared, had 
sent this valuable opportunity f or settling the vexed question 
of Irish misery and discontent. Nothing could have been 
done with the wretched population that had hitherto squatted 
on the land. They were too poor to expend any capital in 
developing the resources of the soil. They were too ignor- 
ant to farm it scientifically. Besides, they were too numer- 
ous. Why incur ruinous expense to save or continue a class 
of landholders so undesirable and injurious ? Kather be- 
hold in what has happened an indication of the design of 
Providence. Ireland needs to be colonized with thrifty 
Scotch and scientific English farmers ; men with means ; 
men with modern ideas. 

Thus pleaded and urged a thousand voices on the English 
shore ; and to impecunious Irish landlords the suggestion 
seemed a heavenly revelation. English tenants paid higher 
rents than Irish, and paid them punctually. English " colo- 
nists " would so farm the land as to increase its worth four- 
fold. English farmers had a proper idea of land-tenure, 
and would quit their holdings on demand. No more worry 
with half-pauperized and discontented fellows always behind 
with their rent, always wanting a reduction, and never 
willing to pay an increase ! No more annoyance from tenant- 
right agitators and seditious newspapers ; no more dread of 



"LOCHABER NO MORE!" 159 

Ribbonite mandates and Rockite warnings ! Blessed hour ! 
El Dorado was in sight ! 

To men circumstanced as the Irish landlords were in 1848, 
these allurements were sure to prove irresistible. They 
formed the theme and substance of essay, speech, and lec- 
ture in England at the time. Some writers put the matter 
a little kindly for the Irish, and regretted that the regenera- 
tion of the country had to be accomplished at a price so 
painful. Others, unhappily, made no secret of their joy 
and exultation. Here was the opportunity to make an end 
of the Irish difficulty. The famine had providentially cleared 
the way for a great and grand work, if England was but 
equal to the occasion. Now was the time to plant Ireland 
with a British population. 

One now can afford to doubt that the men who spoke and 
wrote in this way ever weighed the effect and consequences 
of such language on a people like the Irish. I recall it in a 
purely historical spirit, to identify it as the first visible 
origin and cause of a state of things which disagreeably 
challenges English attention, — the desperate bitterness, the 
deadly hatred of England, which the emigrant thousands 
carried with them from Ireland to America. To many an 
Englishman that hostile spirit must seem almost inexpli- 
cable. " If Irishmen have had to emigrate," they say, " it 
was for their own good and advantage : why should they 
hate England for that ? Englishmen also emigrate in thou- 
sands every day." There is no need to dwell upon the pain- 
ful circumstances that distinguish the Irish exodus from the 
adventurous emigration of Germans or Swedes or English- 
men. The Irishman who comes to tell the story of these 
famine-evictions, and the emigration-panic which followed, 
finds himself, in truth, face to face with the origin of Irish- 
American Eenianism. 

It may be that, even if the tempting idea of "coloniza- 
tion" had never affected their minds, a certain section of the 
Irish landlords would have had to pursue, in a greater or less 



160 NEW IBELAND. 

degree, the course they followed. What were they to do ? 
Penniless lords of penniless tenants, it seemed a miserable 
necessity that they should sacrifice the latter ; as one drown- 
ing man drives another from a plank insufficient to support 
them both. Be this as it may, in the track of the Irish 
Famine came such wholesale " clearances " as never had been 
known in the history of land-tenure. Of course no rents 
had been paid — because none could be paid — by a great part 
of the Irish tenantry during the famine-years, and the hold- 
ings were technically forfeited to the landlords for " non- 
payment of rent." At a later stage, even in cases where no 
rent was due, evictions were carried out all the same, to 
" clear " the land and change the farms to sheep-walks and 
bullock-ranges. The quarter-sessions courts now presented 
a strange spectacle. The business of these tribunals swelled 
to enormous dimensions, from two classes of cases, actions 
against farmers for meal, seed-corn, and cash lent, and eject- 
ment processes. I have seen the latter literally in piles or 
sheaves on the desk before the clerk, and listened for hours 
to the dull monotony of "calling " and " marking " the cases. 
No defenses were attempted ; none could be maintained. 

Then came the really painful stage of the proceedings, — 
the evictions. 

With the English farmer, as a rule, the termination of his 
tenancy is, I believe, little more inconvenient or distressing 
than the ordinary " Michaelmas flitting" of a town resident 
from one house to another. He has hired the use of a farm 
with all its appurtenances, fixtures, and conveniences, fur- 
nished in good order by the landlord, just as one might 
engage a fishing-boat by the week or by the day, or rent a 
shooting, with cosy box or mountain-lodge, for a season. 
Very far different is the case with the Irish tenant. As a 
rule, his farm has been to him and his forefathers for genera- 
tions a fixed and cherished home. Every bush and brake, 
every shrub and tree, every meadow-path or grassy knoll, has 
some association for him which is, as it were, a part of his 



"LOCHABER NO MORE!" 161 

existence. Whatever there is on or above the surface of the 
earth in the shape of house or office or steading, of fence or 
road, or gate or stile, has been created by the tenant's hand. 
Under this humble thatch roof he first drew breath, and has 
grown to manhood. Hither he brought the fair young girl 
tie won as wife. Here have his little children been born. 
This farm-plot is his whole dominion, his world, his all : he 
is verily a part of it, like the ash or the oak that has sprung 
from its soil. Removal in his case is a tearing up by the 
roots, where transplantation is death. The attachment of 
the Irish peasant to his farm is something almost impossible 
to be comprehended by those who have not spent their lives 
among the class and seen from day to day the depth and 
force and intensity of these home feelings. 

An Irish eviction, therefore, it may well be supposed, is a 
scene to try the sternest nature. I know sheriffs and sub- 
sheriffs who have protested to me that odious and distressing 
as were the duties they had to perform at an execution on the 
public scaffold, far more painful to their feelings were those 
which fell to their lot in carrying out an eviction, where, as in 
the case of these " clearances," the houses had to be leveled. 
The anger of the elements affords no warrant for respite or 
reprieve. In hail or thunder, rain or snow, out the inmate 
must go. The bedridden grandsire, the infant in the cradle, 
the sick, the aged, and the dying, must alike be thrust forth, 
though other roof or home the world has naught for them, and 
the stormy sky must be their canopy during the night at hand. 
This is no fancy picture. It is but a brief and simple outline 
sketch of realities witnessed all over Ireland in the ten years 
that followed the famine. I recall the words of an eye- 
witness, describing one of these scenes: "Seven hundred 
human beings," says the Most Rev. Dr. Nulty, Catholic 
Bishop of Meath, " were driven from their homes on this one 
day. There was not a shilling of rent due on the estate at 
the time, except by one man. The sheriffs' assistants em- 
ployed on the occasion to extinguish the hearths and demolish 



162 NEW IRELAND. 

the homes of those honest, industrious men worked away 
with a will at their awful calling until evening fell. Atl 
length an incident occurred that varied the monotony of the 
grim and ghastly ruin which they were spreading all around. 
They stopped suddenly and recoiled, panic-stricken with ter- 
ror, from two dwellings which they were directed to destroy 
with the rest. They had just learned that typhus fever held 
these houses in its grasp, and had already brought death to 
some of their inmates. They therefore supplicated the agent 
to spare these houses a little longer ; but he was inexorable, 
and insisted that they should come down. He ordered a 
large winno wing-sheet to be secured over the beds in which 
the fever- victims lay, — fortunately they happened to be deliri- 
ous at the time, — and then directed the houses to be unroofed 
cautiously and slowly. I administered the last sacrament of 
the Church to four of these fever- victims next day, and, save 
the above-mentioned winnowing-sheet, there was not then a 
roof nearer to me than the canopy of heaven. The scene of 
that eviction-day I must remember all my life long. The 
wailing of women, the screams, the terror, the consternation 
of children, the speechless agony of men, wrung tears of 
grief from all who saw them. I saw the officers and men of 
a large police force who were obliged to attend on the occa- 
sion cry like children. The heavy rains that usually attend 
the autumnal equinoxes descended in cold copious torrents 
throughout the night, and at once revealed to the houseless 
sufferers the awful realities of their condition. I visited 
them next morning, and rode from place to place administer- 
ing to them all the comfort and consolation I could. The 
landed proprietors in a circle all round, and for many miles 
in every direction, warned their tenantry against admitting 
them to even a single night's shelter. Many of these poor 
people were unable to emigrate. After battling in vain with 
privation and pestilence, they at last graduated from the work- 
house to the tomb, and in little more than three years nearly 
a fourth of them lay quietly in their graves." 



"LOCHABER NO MORE!" 1G3 

To such an extent was this demolition of houses carried,* 
;hat a certain kind of skill was acquired in the work ; and 
angs of men accustomed so to wield pick and crowbar 
)ecame a special feature for the time in the labor market, 
ifter a while the whole posse — sheriff, sub-sheriff, agent, 
jailiffs, and attendant policemen — came to be designated the 
'Crowbar Brigade,*' a name of evil memory, at mention of 
isrhich to this day many a peasant's heart will chill m Ire- 
and. 

Soon, indeed, hand-labor became too slow in the work of 
louse-leveling, and accordingly scientific improvement and 
mechanical ingenuity were called in. To Mr. Scully, a Cath- 
)lic landlord in Tipperary, belongs the credit of inventing a 
machine for the cheaper and more expeditious unroofing and 
iemolishing of tenants' homes. I never saw it myself, but 
riends who watched the invention in operation described it 
o me. It consisted of massive iron levers, hooks, and chains, 
o which horses were yoked. By deftly fixing the hooks and 
levers at the proper points of the rafters, at one crack of the 
whip and pull of the horses the roof was brought away. By 
3ome similarly skillful gripping of coigne-stones, the house- 
walls were torn to pieces. It was found that two of these 
machines enabled a sheriff to evict ten times as many peasant 
families in a day as could be got through by a crowbar bri- 
gade of fifty men. Mr. Scully took no special advantage of 
his invention. He neither registered it nor patented it, but 
gave it freely for the general good of his fellow-landlords. I 
am told that not a dozen years ago it was seen in full swing 
in a southern county. 

But even in ruin and desolation, " home " — the home that 
was — seemed to have a fascination for the evicted people. 
They lingered long about the spot, until driven away by 

* On the 22d of March, 1848, Mr. Poulett Scrope, M.P., in the 
House of Commons, called attention to the grossly illegal way in which 
this wholesale leveling of tenants' houses was being carried out in Ire- 
land, — the evictions being, he stated, " mostly at nightfall." 



1G4 NEW IRELAND. 

force, or compelled by sheer starvation to wander off into the 
"wide, wide world." They threw up rude tents or "sheel- 
ings " by the roadside, — branches of trees or bits of plank 
snatched from the dubris of the leveled houses being laid 
against the hedge or fence, and covered with pieces of old 
sheets or with fern-leaves and grass sods. In such poor shel- 
ter the children and the women crouched ; the men slept 
under the sky. A friend told me that driving through Clare 
County in "49 he passed several encampments of evicted ten- 
ants thus established on the roadside. He said there must 
have been hundreds of men, women, and children in all, and 
that they seemed to have been in these huts for some time. 
In the county Mayo these wayside camps were nearly as 
numerous as in Clare ; but in the former county, in a few 
instances at least, neighboring properties eventually afforded 
a foothold to the poor outcasts and saved them from the 
workhouse. It is only just to mention that harsh and heart- 
less as the fact mentioned by Dr. Nulty must sound (the 
mandate of the surrounding landlords forbidding their ten-, 
ants to house or shelter the evicted ones), it had, if not in 
that particular case, in others, this explanation behind it, — 
viz., that where holdings were already small enough there 
was no room for subdividing ; and no landlord wished to 
have the ruined and pauperized population of other town 1 
lands fastened as a possible poor-law burden on his own. 

The instances were not numerous in which any such asylum 
was allowed, and the vast multitude — for such they were in 
the aggregate — gradually separated into two classes. All who 
were able to emigrate — that is to say, all who either possessed, 
or were able to borrow or beg, the necessary means — found 
their way to Australia, America, or Great Britain. Those 
who could not command even the few pounds that the passage 
to England would cost, made for the nearest town, where for 
a while they eked out a miserable existence as day-laborers, 
soon sunk to mendicancy, and eventually disappeared into 
the workhouse, never to lift their heads or own a home again. 






"LOCHABER NO MORE!" 1G5 

The departure of an emigrant cavalcade was a saddening 
sight. English travelers on Irish railways have sometimes 
been startled as the train entered a provincial station to hear a 
loud wail burst from a dense throng on the platform. While 
the porters with desperate haste are trundling into the lug- 
gage-van numerous painted deal boxes, a wild scene of leave- 
taking is proceeding. It is an emigrant farewell. The emi- 
grants, weeping bitterly, kiss, over and over, every neighbor 
and friend, man, woman, and child, who has come to see 
them for the last time. But the keen pang is where some 
member of the family is departing, leaving the rest to be 
sent for by him or her out of the first earnings in exile. The 
husband goes, trusting the wife and little ones to some rela- 
tive or friend till he can pay their passage out from the other 
side. Or it is a son or daughter who parts from the old 
father and mother, and tells them they shall not long be left 
behind. A deafening wail resounds as the station-bell gives 
the signal of starting. I have seen gray-haired peasants so 
clutch and cling to the departing child at this last moment 
that only the utmost force of three or four friends could tear 
them asunder. The porters have to use some violence before 
the train moves off, the crowd so presses against door and 
window. When at length it moves away, amidst a scene of 
passionate grief, hundreds run along the fields beside the 
line to catch yet another glimpse of the friends they shall 
see no more.* 
Besides or between the landlords who at every sacrifice 



* At Cahirmore, some six miles west of Castletown Bearliaven, one 
day in June, 1847, I was walking along tlie fields that reach the cliff 
on the Atlantic shore, when I saw, running along the path that skirts 
the edge, a young peasant sohbing, and waving his cap to a ship in full 
sail a mile off the land. For a while I was utterly at a loss to under- 
stand what it meant ; but on inquiry I found this was an emigrant 
ship that had just sailed from Castletown, and his sister was on board. 
The breeze was light, and the vessel made little way ; and the poor 
fellow had run along the shore for miles to wave a farewell, on chance 
that his sister might be gazing toward home ! 



I ,,i, /v/'/ir TEELAND, 

sustained and retained theii tenantry, And thono who, by 
ohoioc or nooossity, abandoned them to their rate or Hung 
then "it the world, there was a third class, who adopted a 
middle oourse. They did not help the tenantry to woathor 
the itorm And live <»n In the old places, hut thoy aHHintod 

I Im in in going :iwii.y , gAV8 then enOUgb money to pay tho 
panagi fare to the Amenemi <>r l,n/.H i.-ili hIioiv. Tho chunic 
terand merits of thii traniaotion win' very mixod. In Homo 

oasos it wai '" i' i conduct ; in others it waH a hard bar- 

q mi . , 1 1 ii. I it. the hour of tho tenant's holplossnoss. Which 
fooling preponderated P Whether the landlord bhwtnd bin 

j I fortune when, foi 10 i mall a price, ho got rid of ruined 

tenants mill probable poor rate burden on In estate, and had 
[roc posse lion of oleared farms besides, or whothor ho was a 

mini who ii «tly and linooroly folt that ho was doing the 

he i for them and for himself, that thoy could never | > ■ 1 1 1 
through ;ii homo, and might <l<> well in Australia or Amor 
[oa, In a question I have novor yot boon able In dotormine 

to my own satiifaot Borne landlords, no doul>t, were 

■waved by one olusi of consideration, some hy II thor. 

I'ii i wiih every doiiro to take the brightest viow <>l" this "as- 

i I . < | rini;;i;il " proceeding, mill In |in\ lime I he I > < • : I . : I . : lo 

motives, I euniii ioe thai hardly any of those landlords ona- 
hleil the pauperized fugitivos to do more than reach tho 
foreign shoro< Not one of them soomod to oonsidor for a 

niomenl Imn the LCnglisll | plo would lite lo liaVO lens of 

thousand! of rmle, uniophiitioated, unskillod, unlottorod 
lull peasants flung penniless on tho quays of Liverpool or 
the dooksides ol London. No! one of thorn soomod to care 
what might be the resull if the hundreds of thousands who 
breamed ai roil the Atlantio should fail to II nd employment 
lheti.i\ 1 1 1. • \ landed a! Boston or New York. LIundrods of 
these Irish emigrants crossed the Atlantic with barely the 
tattorod olothei on thoir baok, and without n shilling to pur- 
ohaso even one day's food on landing. I know of my own 
knowlcdtfo that several borrowod the sovoii shillings and 






•• LOCSABEB NO KOBE!" K;7 

fence that look iliciii as deok-passengers aoross the Channel 
in i , 1 1 • ■ i : 1 1 j * l , trusting to tho hazard of getting something to 
do the day, nay, the hour, they landed at Briitol, London, 
or Liverpool, if thoj were not bo go without bed or Hood 
their lii i night on bJnglish soil. 

"Thanks be i" God, they have Bred in the air!" mivh the 
Cork waiter i" the English visitor in one of Lever's stories. 
Two Irish gentlemen having quarreled in the hotel coffee- 
room, a duel with pistols whs arranged to oome ofE on the 
pot there and then. To the delight of their (fiends, how- 
pi i, and <>r tho uHHomblod waitorH, napkin on arm, they 
"lirrii in tho air," that is, through the ceiling, and nearly 
pot Hie ESnglishman in u No. LO" overhead. Very I j k < • this 
"linn" in tho air" was the oonduot of the [rish landlords 
who sent off their pauperized tenantry and cottiers to Eng- 
Inii'l and Aiiicnr;i. "Thanks be bo God, they are gone I" 
wiih, no doubt, the happy reflection of many a benevolent 
landlord at this time. But gone whither, and bo what (ate P 
■one from po sibly burdening or inoonvenionoing him : but 
wii.ii of the possible burden and inconvenience bo the sooial 
hvhIcihk into whioh this mass <»f strange material was limn 

flung ? 

Often as I stood and watched these departing groups I 
Iih'I to think what it might I"' bhat bhey could do in 

he land they were going to." What were bhey tit for? 
Kany of them had never seen a bown of ben thousand inhab 
pats; and in a large oity, even in bheirown country, bhey 
would bo bolplcHH inni bewildered as a Hook of sheep <>n a 
■My highway. What was before bhem in fche midst of Lon 

don or New York ? Wind, nii|irc; ;ioiim would llicy crr:dr in 

pa minds of a strange oity people? What species of skill, 
w 1 1 ; 1 1 branch of industry, did bhey bring with bhem, bo com 
ni.iiid employment and insure ;i weloome ? EPew of them 
could read ; some of them, sooustomed to speak the native 
Qfaelie, knew little of the English tongue. Their rustic 
Banners would expose bhem bo derision, their want of edu- 



108 NEW IRELAND. 

cation to contempt, on the part of those who would not 
know, or pause to consider, that in the hapless land they left 
the schoolmaster had been proscribed by law for two hun- 
dred years. Wofully were they handicapped. Nearly every- 
thing was against them. Their past ways of life, so far 
from training them in aught for these new circumstances, in 
nearly every way unfitted them for the change. 

I speak in all this of the peasant or cottier emigrants. 
Mingling in the vast throng went thousands, no doubt, who, 
happily for them as it afterward proved, possessed educa- 
tion, skill, and occasionally moderate means for a start in 
life on the other side, — members of respectable and once 
prosperous families that had been ruined in the famine-time. 
Nay, there sailed in the steerage of the emigrant-ships many 
a fair young girl, going to face a servant's lot in a foreign 
land, who at home had once had servants to attend her 
every want ; and many a fine young fellow ready to engage 
as groom, who learned that business, so to speak, as a gentle- 
man's son in the hunting-field. In the cities and towns of 
Great Britain and America there are to-day hundreds of 
Irishmen, some having risen to position and fortune, others 
still toiling on in some humble sphere, who landed on the 
new shore friendless and forlorn from the wreck of happy 
and affluent homes. 

But as to the vast bulk of uncultured peasants, victims of 
this wholesale expulsion, their fate was and could but be de- 
plorable. Landing in such masses, everything around them 
so strange, so new, and sometimes so hostile, they inevitably 
herded together, making a distinct colony or "quarter" in 
the city where they settled. Destitute as they were, their 
necessities drove them to the lowest and most squalid lanes 
and alleys of the big towns. At home in their native valleys 
poverty was free from horrors that mingled with it here, 
namely, contact with debasing city crime. The children of 
these wretched emigrants grew up amidst terrible contami- 
nations. The police-court records soon began to show an 



"LOCHABER NO MORE!" 169 

array of Celtic patronymics. " The low Irish" grew to be a 
phrase of scorn in the community around them ; and they, 
repaying scorn with hatred, became, as it were, the Arabs of 
the place, " their hand against every man's hand, and every 
man's hand against them." 

This dismal picture, painfully true of many a case a quar- 
ter of a century ago, is now happily rare. A brighter and 
better state of things is rapidly making its appearance. But, 
for my own part, I can never forget the mournful impres- 
sions made upon me more than twenty years ago when inves- 
tigating the condition of the laboring Irish in Staffordshire 
and in Lancashire, in Boston and in New York. I knew 
that these poor countrymen of mine were of better and no- 
bler material than the strangers around them imagined ; 
that they were the victims of circumstances. I saw and I 
deplored their vices and their failings ; saw that their native 
Irish virtues, their simple, kindly, generous nature, had al- 
most totally disappeared in the cruel transplantation. 

The Irish exodus had one awful concomitant, which in the 
Irish memory of that time fills nearly as large a space as the 
famine itself. The people, flying from fever-tainted hovel 
and workhouse, carried the plague with them on board. 
Each vessel became a floating charnel-house. Day by day 
the American public was thrilled by the ghastly tale of ships 
arriving off the harbors reeking with typhus and cholera, the 
track they had followed across the ocean strewn with the 
corpses flung overboard on the way. Speaking in the House 
of Commons on the 11th of February, 1848, Mr. Labouchere 
referred to one year's havoc on board the ships sailing 
to Canada and New Brunswick alone in the following 
words : 

" Out of 106,000 emigrants who during the last twelve 
months crossed the Atlantic for Canada and New Bruns- 
wick, 6100 perished on the voyage, 4100 on their arrival, 
5200 in the hospitals, and 1900 in the towns to which they 
repaired. The total mortality was no less than 17 per cent. 
8 



170 NEW IRELAND. 

of the total number emigrating to those places ; the number 
of deaths being 17,300." 

In all the great ports of America and Canada, huge quar- 
antine hospitals had to be hastily erected. Into these every 
day newly-arriving plague-ships poured what survived of 
their human freight, for whom room was as rapidly made in 
those wards by the havoc of death. Whole families disap- 
peared between land and land, as sailors say. Frequently 
the adults were swept away, the children alone surviving. It 
was impossible in every case to ascertain the names of the 
sufferers, and often all clue to identification was lost. The 
public authorities, or the nobly humane organizations that 
had established those lazar-houses, found themselves to- 
ward the close of their labors in charge of hundreds of 
orphan children, of whom name and parentage alike were 
now impossible to be traced. About eight years ago I was 
waited upon in Dublin by one of these waifs, now a man of 
considerable wealth and honorable position. He had come 
across the Atlantic in pursuit of a purpose to which he is 
devoting years of his life, — an endeavor to obtain some clue 
to his family, who perished in one of the great shore hospi- 
tals in 1849. Piously he treasures a few pieces of a red- 
painted emigrant-box, which he believes belonged to his 
father. Eagerly he travels from place to place in Clare 
and Kerry and Galway, to see if he may dig from the tomb 
of that terrible past the secret lost to him, I fear, for- 
ever ! 

" From Grosse Island, the great charnel-house of victim- 
ized humanity " (says the Official Eeport of the Montreal 
Emigrant Society for 1847), " up to Port Sarnia, and all 
along the borders of our magnificent river ; upon the shores 
of Lakes Ontario and Erie, — wherever the tide of emigration 
has extended, are to be found the final resting-places of the 
sons and daughters of Erin ; one unbroken chain of graves, 
where repose fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, in 
one commingled heap, without a tear bedewing the soil or a 



"LOCHABER NO MORE!" 171 

tone marking the spot. Twenty thousand and upward 
lave thus gone down to their graves." 

I do not know that the history of our time has a parallel 
or this Irish exodus. The Germans, to be sure, have emi- 
grated in vast numbers, and, like the Irish, seem to form 
listinct communities where they settle. But many circum- 
stances distinguish the Irish case from any that can be re- 
jailed. Other emigrations were, more or less, the gradual 
ind steady overflow of a population cheerfully willing to go. 
This was the forcible expulsion or panic rush of a stricken 
people, and was attended by frightful scenes of suffering and 
leath. Irishmen, moreover, feel that their country has not 
lad a chance of fair play, if I may so express it, in a state 
jf things which sent out into the world the one section of the 
population least qualified to encounter it, and the one sec- 
tion least likely to impress strangers with favorable and high 
deas of Ireland and the Irish. At this present hour there 
ire English men and women who think all Irishmen wear 
"caubeens," with pipes stuck in the rim, and carrying a 
reaping-hook under their flannel vest. If only the corre- 
sponding class of the English nation, when it had a peasant 
slass, were seen by foreign peoples, as rude a conception 
might be formed of the typical Englishman. 

Yet the first terrible ordeal over, the Irish emigration is 
beginning to bear some good and useful fruit. Disadvanta- 
geous as was their start in the race, the expatriated Celts are 
decidedly pulling up, and are striding well to the front in 
many a land. They are acquiring skill, are turning to good 
account their naturally quick intelligence. In some places, 
unfortunately, the vices engendered of ignorance and pov- 
erty still drag them down and keep them low ; but in most 
instances they have conquered the respect and secured the 
kindly regard of their employers, neighbors, and fellow- 
workmen. The sad circumstances under which the great 
body of them crossed the seas have indelibly stamped one 
remarkable characteristic on the Irish emigrants : they are a 



172 NEW IRELAND. 

distinct people. Like the children of Israel, "by the waters 
of Babylon they sit down and weep when they remember 
Sion." In joy or sorrow, in adversity or prosperity, they 
always have a corner in their hearts for Ireland, a secretly- 
treasured memory of that railway parting-scene, or of the 
last fond look they turned on the native valley, the ruined 
cottage, the lonely hawthorn-tree. Often in their dreams 
they clasp again the hands they wrung that day, ere they set 
forth for an eternal exile, to behold " Lochaber no more." 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT. 

"Kingston, Kingston, you black- whiskered, good-natured 
fellow, I am happy to see you in this friendly country." Such 
was the characteristic salutation that broke from George IV. 
as he stepped on the Irish shore at Howth on the 12th of 
August, 1821, and recognized among the crowd assembled 
to greet him the frank, genial, and warm-hearted Earl of 
Kingston. 

The king little thought that day that the " black- whis- 
kered, good-natured " nobleman who stood before him — 
splendid type of an Irish country gentleman, brave, gener- 
ous, hospitable, kindly to his tenantry, beloved by his depend- 
ants — was fated to be the last of his name and race who would 
tread in pride the ancestral halls of Mitchelstown. Yet so 
it was to be. His next heir was to see the ruin of that noble 
house, the wreck of that princely fortune, once the boast of 
Southern Ireland. 

The traveler from Cork to Dublin, as he nears the Lim- 
erick Junction, sees on his right hand, rising boldly from a 
fertile plain, a chain of lofty mountains. Even when viewed 
from the railway, one can notice that they are pierced by 
many a deep gorge and picturesque glen. These are the 
Gal tees, one of the noblest mountain-groups in Ireland, — 
perhaps in Europe. 

The district has an eventful history. Its deep fastnesses, 
its trackless hills, its winding defiles, made it the refuge of 
the native Irish when vanquished on the plains. " A natural 
fortress of liberty," one of our historians calls it. The Des- 

173 



174 NEW IRELAND. 

mond Geraldines — ipsis Hibernicis Hibemiores — were its 
lords throughout the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The 
crumbling walls of their numerous castle strongholds still 
form notable features in the landscape for miles around. 
Early in the seventeenth century the extensive possessions of 
this branch of the Fitzgeralds passed to the Fentons of 
Mitchelstown, one of whom married the daughter of " The 
White Knight," Fitzgerald of Clongibbon. Very little later 
on the sole heiress of the Fentons married John King, whose 
grandfather, Sir John King, had obtained from Charles II. 
considerable estates in the county Eoscommon. He was the 
ancestor of the " black- whiskered, good-natured " Lord King- 
ston, and of Captain E. R. King Harman, M.P. for Sligo 
(1877), to whom these Eoscommon estates have descended. 

South and west of the Galtees rise the mountains of 
Knockmeldoun. The valley between is one of the loveliest 
in all Munster. At its head stands Mitchelstown Castle. 
From my boyhood I had heard of the magnificence of this 
mountain-palace of the Kingston family, and of the natural 
beauties surrounding. But when I visited the place in I860 
the events I am about to narrate had befallen, and their 
princely home knew the Kingstons no more. A writer in 
the Daily News, nearly ten years previously, had drawn a 
picture of the scene full of feeling and fidelity, some portion 
of which I shall reproduce in preference to any sketch of my 
own. "From afar off," he says, "as soon as the traveler 
enters the beautiful valley which bears its name, the towers 
and battlements of Mitchelstown are distinguished, rising 
above the surrounding woods, and affording an idea of mag- 
nificence quite uncommon to this country. With a liberality 
very uncommon in Great Britain, the gates are at all hours 
open to the public. It is said that nothing delighted Lord 
Kingston so much as to see people enjoying themselves in his 
demesne. In England the passage of a vehicle through a 
park would be considered by most proprietors an annoying 
and unwelcome intrusion. At Mitchelstown Lord Kin£stoi 



THE ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT. 175 

would scarcely permit a carriage to enter without rushing 
out to greet its occupants and to invite them to make a survey 
of his castle and its grounds. 

" In harmony with the feelings of the noble owner, the 
drive from the lodge-gates to the entrance-portal of the castle 
is a short and pleasant one. No long and chilling avenue 
affords the visitor time for preparation. A lawn and pleas- 
ure-ground are passed, and the castle stands before you in all 
its princely grandeur. It consists of a pile of castellated 
buildings, extensive and elegantly proportioned, and built of 
stone of the purest white, quarried from the hills on the es- 
tate. Nothing can be more simple in arrangement than the 
interior of this castle. A noble flight of steps leads from the 
entrance door into a gallery one hundred and fifty feet in 
length. At the other end of this gallery a corresponding 
flight of marble stairs leads to the upper chambers. The 
gallery is lighted by ranges of oriel and other windows to the 
north. On the south are fireplaces of Italian marble, with 
stoves of knightly character and blazon, designed expressly for 
the castle. Between these fireplaces are doors, which open 
into the suite of rooms which form the saloons of reception. 
Overhead are two ranges of bedchambers, sixty principal and 
twenty inferior bedrooms. On an emergency as many as a 
hundred persons have, without difficulty, been accommodated 
with chambers in the mansion. Concealed by a shrubbery, to 
the south of the building, are the exterior offices. The sta- 
bles of the Douglas, made famous by Sir Walter Scott, did 
not boast more ample accommodation. Four-and-twenty 
steeds may here be kept ready for war or chase. The gardens 
of Mitchelstown have long been celebrated ; the noble earl 
himself took especial pleasure in them. It is indeed a re- 
markable sight to see the long range of graperies thrown 
open. As far as the eye can see, festoons of grapes are pen- 
dent ; some are of rare sorts. The black Hamburg grape is 
brought to the utmost perfection here, and there is one vine 
which, in point of size, both of vine and fruit, is said to rival 



176 NEW IBELAND. 

the famed produce of the vine at Hampton Court. There 
is also a lodge expressly devoted for the reception of picnic- 
parties, whoirom time immemorial have been permitted the 
free range of all the grounds and gardens, and inspection of 
the castle upon application at the door. Many a family 
fault and failing may be considered amply redeemed by this 
liberal attention to the stranger. When Englishmen hear oj 
noblemen's seats which there is a difficulty in visiting, they 
may remember the case of Mitchelstown, where every visitor 
of whatever station, was provided for, welcomed, and even 
invited to return." 

One day, however, a heavy blow fell on Mitchelstown 
Castle and its generous-hearted lord. I shall let the same 
kindly Englishman tell the story, although he was misled, as 
I shall show, in one or two particulars : 

" The present proprietor of the estate was distinguished 
for his hospitality. It would have been, under other cir- 
cumstances, a noble trait in his character. Lord Kingston 
did that which the wealthier noblemen of England are fax 
too slow to do. He invited to Mitchelstown, without dis- 
tinction of rank or title, all who could derive enjoyment 
from it. 'If you are a scholar,' said the noble lord, ' you 
shall be conducted to scenes renowned in history ; if you are 
a lover of the picturesque, you shall have a room command- 
ing a dozen prospects ; if you are a sportsman, the horse and 
hound invite you to follow them ; or there are hills abound- 
ing with grouse, and streams alive with trout. Bring your 
gun, your rod, your pencil, or your book, you shall be 
equally welcome and equally gratified. Come and visit me 
at Mitchelstown.' 

"It was in the midst of one of these hospitable gatherings 
that the last blow was struck at the descendant of Clongib- 
bon. A cruel blow it was, and deservedly execrated will be 
the man who struck it. It was a Saturday evening ; a hun- 
dred guests were preparing for the dinner-table at Mitchels- 
town, after the sports and enjoyments of the day. At this 



THE ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT. 177 

moment there rode up to the door an unexpected visitor. 
He was an attorney of the neighborhood, to whose hands 
Lord Kingston had confided the direction of some of his 
affairs. A debt for the costs appertaining to these procesd- 
ings had been met by a bond, upon which judgment had 
been entered up. The bond only awaited execution, but 
there was no apprehension that the money would be pressed 
for. When the attorney arrived, he was welcomed by Lord 
Kingston with his usual hospitality. He accepted an invi- 
tation to remain the night, and he partook of the hospitality 
of the castle and quaffed its wine to the health and hap- 
piness of his host. 

"On the following morning, when Lord Kingston and his 
party were about to repair to the adjacent church, the attor- 
ney excused himself on the plea of indisposition. During 
the absence of the guests he was observed admiring the gran- 
deur of the rooms. He examined the furniture, the books, 
the plate upon the sideboards, the chandeliers pendent from 
the ceilings. Early in the day he took his departure. Lord 
Kingston little augured what would follow it. 

"A day or two after, Lord Kingston was visited at 
Mitchelstown by a gentleman well known to him, who re- 
quested the favor of a private interview. It was the sheriff 
of the county. He came, he said, on a most unpleasant 
duty. An execution had been issued at the suit of the at- 
torney, and he had received notice to put it in immediate 
force, together with particulars of furniture and other arti- 
cles within the castle on which levy could be made, and 
which he was called upon to seize. The sheriff assured Lord 
Kingston the execution should be put in such a way as would 
give him least annoyance. The officer, he said, could be 
treated as a servant, and he trusted that the matter would be 
so arranged that he would be very speedily withdrawn. 

" The sheriff then withdrew to summon the officer, whom, 
in delicacy to Lord Kingston, he had left without the bounds 
of the demesne. Whilst he was absent, Lord Kingston 



178 NEW IRELAND. 

hastily called some of his friends together and consulted with 
them. Some of the least judicious recommended him to close 
the doors. The noble lord was ill-advised enough to act on 
this suggestion. The castle-doors were barred, and the earl 
and such of the party as remained his guests determined to 
stand out a siege. 

"The sheriff had behaved in the spirit of a gentleman, and 
even of a friend."" It was now his duty to act as administra- 
tor of the law. He closely invested the castle and its grounds, 
directing his officers to obtain possession in any way they 
could. For nearly a fortnight the siege continued. During 
that time several councils of war were called within the build- 
ing. At length the more moderate prevailed: they advised 
Lord Kingston to surrender at discretion. No succor was at 
hand, and the present proceedings, they suggested, would 
only increase the irritation which these proceedings had pro- 
duced on both sides. It was accordingly determined to ad- 
mit the officers. Late on the evening of that day Lord Kingston 
drove away for the last time from the home of his ancestors, 
and the sheriff's men were summoned in to take possession 
of the castle and its property." 

This story, so sympathetically told, was sadly true ; but 
my information lays the date of its occurrence some few years 
anterior to the time here indicated. I rather think the 
seizure thus described took place in 1845 or 1847, at the in- 
stance of a Mr. J. W. Sherlock, solicitor, of Fermoy. The 
final execution was levied in 1849, at the instance of a family 
group of whom we shall hear more in a subsequent chapter, — 
the Sadleir-Scully family. The foreclosed mortgage on which 
the Kingston estates were sold out in 1850 had been made 
to Thomas Joseph Eyre, William Stourton, James Scully, 
and James Sadleir. Mr. Eyre appointed his relative, Mr. 
John Sadleir, afterward M. P. for Carlow, receiver over the 
estates. Mr. Sadleir organized a land company to purchase 
the property. The shares in this company later on passed 
mainly into the hands of two of the directors, of whom Mr. 



THE ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT. 179 

Nathaniel Buckley, a Lancashire manufacturer, was one. 
Mr. Buckley bought out, or otherwise arranged with, his col- 
league, and became lord of the jDlace, appointing as his agent 
Mr. Patten S. Bridge, who, on the crash of the Sadleir bank 
in 1856, was manager of the Thurles branch. Deplorable 
incidents of recent occurrence have given a gloomy notoriety, 
for the passing moment, to this same Mitchelstown estate, 
and have brought into distressing prominence the names of 
Mr. Buckley and Mr. Patten S. Bridge.* 

Toward the close of 1847, or early in 1848, it became 
noised about in Ireland that the Government contemplated 
a scheme for removing the debt-loaded landlord class in 
Ireland. The necessity for some such step, its usefulness, 
its national importance, none could deny, and none more 
freely admitted than the Irish proprietors themselves. With- 
out touching on the broader and deeper question of the 
abstract utility of facilitating the transfer of land and its sale 
in smallparcels, there were in Ireland peculiar reasons why such 
a project must be beneficial. A large section of the landlord 
class were little better than nominal proprietors. A moun- 
tain-load of mortgages or a net- work of settlements rendered 
them powerless to attempt or carry out any of the numerous 
reforms and improvements which a really free and independ- 
ent owner might arrange with his tenantry. Many an Irish 
gentleman, with a nominal rent-roll of thousands or tens of 
thousands a year, possessed in reality to his own use scarcely 
so many hundreds. To not a few of the class the hollowness 
and unreality of their position had become intolerable. The 
lord of some ancient mansion or ivied castle, with estates 
that reached in miles on either hand, often envied the hum- 
ble merchant of five hundred pounds a year, who had no 
state to maintain, no retinue to support, no false position in 

* Twice within the past two years Mr. Bridge has been murderously 
waylaid. On the last occasion a regular fusillade was exchanged be- 
tween his armed escort of police and the assassins. Mr. Bridge 
escaped, but his coachman was shot dead. 



180 NEW IBELAND. 

society to uphold. With men so circumstanced, indulgence 
to their tenantry was almost impossible, and the temptation 
to cupidity, to rack-renting, and to extortion was strong and 
ever pressing. It was true statesmanship to afford a cure 
for evils so serious and so complicated. The Irish Encum- 
bered Estates Act, regarded in this sense, was one of the 
greatest legislative boons ever conferred on Ireland. In its 
actual results, good and evil, hurt and service, cause for sat- 
isfaction and cause for regret, are considerably mingled. In 
some very important particulars the expectations and designs 
of its promoters have been disappointed and contradicted. 
But when every allowance has been made, there still is to be 
said that a great and incalculable gain has been achieved, 
though at somewhat of painful price. 

The measure, excellent in itself, was proposed and pre- 
sented to Ireland at such a time and under such circum- 
stances as to give it a decidedly sinister aspect. To no man, 
to no class of men, can a sentence of abolition or extinction 
be welcome at any time. "Life is sweet." But when men 
feel that special advantage is taken of a special misfortune in 
order to encompass their destruction, for no matter how 
great a public good, — if they are " struck when down," — 
they regard the proceeding with a peculiar bitterness. Thus 
felt many an Irish landlord the proposal of the Encumbered 
Estates Act. It came upon him, he would say, when he 
needed rather indulgence, consideration, and aid. It caught 
him in a moment of helplessness and exhaustion. What- 
ever chance he might have of retrieving his position at any 
other time, he had none now. Landed property was a drug 
in the market. On many estates no rents had been paid dur- 
ing the famine. On some the poor-rates had reached twenty 
shillings in the pound of yearly valuation. To challenge 
Irish landlords at such a moment with the stern ultimatum 
of "Pay or quit" was naked destruction. To visit upon 
them at the close of the famine the penalty for inherited in- 
debtedness and embarrassment was, in many cases, sacrificing 



THE ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT. 181 

the innocent for the sins of their forefathers, — sacrificing 
them under circumstances of peculiar hardship and injustice. 
In fine, the Encumbered Estates Act ought to have been 
passed long years before, — in some period of tranquility and 
comparative plenty. Enacted when it was, it could but 
wear an aspect of harshness or hostility, could accomplish 
its unquestionably useful aims only at the cost of excessive 
sacrifice and suffering. 

What were those aims ? They were stated in one way, 
had one meaning, in the bill brought into Parliament ; they 
were stated very differently in the leading organs of English 
public opinion. On the face of the Government measure one 
could read fairly enough a proposal to enable a court specially 
constituted to order the sale of estates encumbered by indebt- 
edness, on the petition so praying of any person sufficiently 
interested as owner or creditor ; all statutes, settlements, 
deeds, or covenants to the contrary notwithstanding ; to the 
end that debts justly due might be paid so far as the prop- 
erty could answer them ; that a proprietary emancipated 
from the injurious restraints of family settlements and the 
crushing burdens of family debts might be brought to the aid 
of the Irish land system ; and that a concise, simple, and inde- 
feasible form of title might be substituted for the voluminous, 
confused, and ponderous legal scrolls in which title to landed 
property was hitherto set forth. So manifestly useful were 
such proposals, so valuable to any country a tribunal with 
such powers, that one is at a loss to understand why (as some 
of the Irish peers and members of Parliament asked at the 
time) the bill was not applied to England and Scotland, and 
was to extend to Ireland alone. The comments and glossary 
of some English newspapers seemed to supply an answer to 
this very natural interrogatory, but it was one not calculated 
to recommend the bill in Ireland. We were told to read be- 
tween the lines of the Government measure a plan for the more 
sure effectuation of the new plantation. Not alone were the 
Irish tenantry to be replaced by English and lowland-Scotch 



182 NEW IRELAND. 

colonists, but the Irish landlords also were to be cleared off, 
an English proprietary being established in their stead. 
" English capital" was at long last to flow into Ireland in 
the purchase of these estates. The dream of Elizabeth and 
James and Charles was to be accomplished in the reign of 
Victoria. The island was to be peopled by a new race, — 
was to be anglicized "from the center to the sea." In truth, 
between evictions and emigration on the one hand, and the 
working of the Encumbered Estates Court on the other, so 
it seemed that it would be. " In a few years more," said the 
London Times, " a Celtic Irishman will be as rare in Con- 
nemara as is the Red Indian on the shores of Manhattan." 

If the bullock being led to the abattoir could understand 
and be consoled by remarks upon the excellent sirloin and 
juicy steak which he was sure to furnish, so ought the Irish 
landlords and tenants to have taken kindly the able speeches 
and learned leading articles which declared they were being 
slaughtered for the public good. But they had not a philos- 
ophy equal to this lofty view of things, and they called it 
hard names. 

In the early days of February, 1848, the Irish Encum- 
bered Estates Bill was introduced into the House of Lords. 
On the 24th of February it was read a second time. Through 
the months of March and April it lay perdu, the Government 
and the country apparently being engrossed with the more 
exciting and exigent topics of the period. On the 8th of 
May, however, the Lords suddenly resumed consideration of 
the bill, and, making up for lost time, passed it through all 
remaining stages in two or three days ! A week subse- 
quently it was introduced in the Commons, and on the 18th 
of May was read a second time with less of debate than 
would now be given to a parish gas-bill. Not an Irish mem- 
ber seems to have opened his lips at this stage on a measure 
which was designed and calculated to effect the most mo- 
mentous changes in Ireland ! On the 4th of July Sir Lu- 
cius O'Brien, afterward Lord Inchiquin, then member for 






THE ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT. 183 

Clare, raised a rather protracted debate by an amendment 
proposing to extend the bill to England, — a suggestion 
strongly opposed and easily defeated by the Government. 
On the 13th of July the bill went through committee. On 
the 24th of July, 1848, it passed the third reading, and in a 
few days more was law. 

On the 21st of October, 1849, the first " Petition for 
Sale " was filed under the new act ; and. there soon set in a 
state of things which most people foresaw, — a rush of cred- 
itors to the court, an inevitable sacrifice of property. As in 
a commercial panic, men who at first had never dreamed of 
selling, beholding the hourly increasing depreciation, rushed 
wildly in and accelerated the downward tendency of prices. 
In this storm many a noble fortune was wrecked, many an 
ancient and honored family went down. Estates that would 
have been well able to pay twice the encumbrances laid upon 
them, if property was at all near its ordinary level of value, 
now failed to realize enough to meet the mortgages, and the 
proprietors were devoted to ruin. 

I have already told or quoted the story of the Kingston 
estates. The history of the early operations of the new court 
is full of such episodes. Second only to Lord Kingston's 
case in the sympathy which it called forth was that of Lord 
Gort. Among the names retained in Irish popular memory 
of the men who stood by " ever-glorious Grattan " in the last 
days of the Irish parliament, that of Colonel the Right Hon. 
Charles Vereker, M.P., is honorably placed. Hurriedly 
called to the field by the alarm of a Erench landing at 
Killala, he was put in command of the first troops assembled 
to resist the eastward march of the Franco-Irish force ; and 
he it was who, at Coloony, near Sligo, first reversed the dis- 
grace of the British flight at Castlebar. For this he was 
made Viscount Gort, taking his title from the neat little town 
which adjoined the family demesne at Lough Cooter Castle.* 

* The Right Hon. Colonel Vereker of Coloony had the peerage 
granted to his uncle John Prendergast of Gort, whose heir he was, and 



184 NEW IRELAND. 

The French were finally defeated by Lord Lake at Ballina- 
muck, and Colonel Vereker returned from the camp to the 
senate, — from a fight for his king against Humbert, to a fight 
for his country against Pitt. His name figures to the last in t 
the division-lists against the Union. In 1850 his son, John 
P. Vereker, was owner of the castle and estates when the 
thunderbolt that laid even prouder houses low fell heavily 
and undeservedly on his. 

Lough Cooter Castle, one of the "show places" of the 
western counties, stands on the edge of the lake from which 
it takes its name, two miles from the town of Gort, in Galway 
County. The castle is quite modern, having been erected at 
a cost of about eighty thousand pounds by the second viscount, 
from plans by Nash, the renovator and architect of the newly- 
added portion of Windsor Castle. It is described as built in 
" the severe Gothic " style. The walls are of massive solidity, 
and constructed of beautifully-chiseled limestone. The lake 
covers an area of nearly eight square miles, and is studded 
with wooded islands. One of these has been for years the 
home of innumerable herons and cormorants, — perhaps the 
only instance on record of an island in a fresh-water lake being 
inhabited by the latter birds. The Gort River flows out of 
the lake, and, at a romantic glen known as "the Punchbowl," 
distant about a mile, falls into a deep rocky abyss, totally dis- 
appearing underground till it reaches Cannohoun. Here it 
rushes out of a rocky cavern, and then flows through Gort, 
where it turns several mills, and, falling, again makes its way 
— appearing and sinking several times — through the sands 
into Kinvarra Bay, six miles from Gort. 

The Gort unsettled estates lay under a debt in all of about 
sixty thousand pounds. In 1842 they were valued, for family 
arrangement purposes, at one hundred and fifty thousand 

whose property he inherited, with special remainder to himself. He 
accordingly inherited the title on his uncle's death as second viscount. 
The flight referred to was called "the races of Castlebar," and as 
such is still referred to in the neighborhood. 



THE ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT. 185 

pounds, but were always considered to be worth niuch more. 
Eighteen hundred and forty-seven found Lord Gort a resident 
landlord, bravely doing his duty, refusing to fly, scorning to 
abandon his tenantry. " His lordship," says one of the Irish 
newspapers, "was always opposed to the clearance system, 
which he characterized as merciless and unjustifiable, and 
endeavored practically to prove that a resident landlord, by 
availing himself of the opportunities that occurred from time 
to time, could consolidate the farms on his estates, and intro- 
duce every modern improvement, without desolating a single 
happy homestead or alienating the affections of his tenantry." 
The famine came ; rents could not be paid, and Lord Gort 
would not resort to heartless means of attempting to extort 
them. The interest on the mortgage fell in arrear ; the mort- 
gagee, taking advantage of a clause in his mortgage-deed, dis- 
charged the local land-agent, and appointed in his stead a Lon- 
don attorney, who, I believe, had never seen the place, and 
never visited it even when acting as receiver over it. A peti- 
tion for sale of the property was lodged in Chancery, whence 
the proceedings were transferred to the new court created by 
the Encumbered Estates Act. One may imagine the feelings 
of Lord Gort and his family, for they but too well knew what 
a forced sale of landed property at such a moment meant. 
Their worst fears were realized. They saw their beautiful 
home — their castle and lake and lands — swept away, sold at 
panic prices. An estate that should have left them a hand- 
some income beyond every conceivable claim was unable to 
free the mortgage ! Eight well they knew — as indeed subse- 
quently happened — that in a few years these ancestral acres, 
thus torn from them forever, would be sold again at very 
nearly double their present price. Thirteen years' purchase 
was, I believe, the highest given at this sale. Many lots 
were sold at five. Some portions of the property recently 
resold have fetched twenty-five and twenty-seven ! Lough 
Cooter Castle, worth from fifty thousand to sixty thousand 
pounds, was sold for seventeen thousand. The fortunate 



186 NEW IRELAND. 

purchaser — Mrs. Ball, Superioress of the Eeligious Order of 
Mercy, Dublin, who intended converting it into a novitiate 
house for the order — resold it soon after for twenty-four 
thousand pounds. 

Lot 1, valuation five hundred and sixty pounds a year, 
realized but three thousand pounds. Lot 2, valuation one 
hundred and fifty-five pounds, brought six hundred pounds. 
The Board of Ordnance bought Lord Gort's profit-rent of 
eighty pounds, out of the Gort cavalry barracks, the valua- 
tion being two hundred and eighty- three pounds a year, for 
one thousand four hundred and fifty pounds. The constabu- 
lary barracks and other premises, valued at one hundred and 
twenty-three pounds, fetched seven hundred pounds. The 
town-lands, valued at five hundred and seventy-nine pounds 
a year, were bought by the mortgagee for two thousand eight 
hundred pounds, or less than five years' purchase. No won- 
der that sympathy with the Vereker family was wide and 
general. The day they quitted Lough Cooter, the people 
surrounded them with every demonstration of attachment 
and respect, and waved them, along the road, a sorrowful 
farewell ! 

I should have hesitated, indeed, to touch on a subject so 
full of pain as this must ever be to that family, were it not 
that fortunate circumstances have, happily, since then re- 
trieved those unmerited disasters, and restored, or rather 
retained, to them, the status which for a moment seemed so 
cruelly overthrown. In East Cowes Castle (adjoining Os- 
borne), the present seat of the Gort family, they must find 
much to remind them of, and recompense them for, the 
equally beautiful spot once their home on Lough Cooter ; 
though I doubt not they would rather see from the castle- 
windows the island-studded Irish lough than the flashing 
waters of the Solent. It is a curious coincidence that East 
Cowes Castle and Lough Cooter Castle were erected from 
designs by the same hand, the former having been built by 
Nash for his own residence. At the beginning of the pres- 



THE ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT. 187 

ent century, the Prince Regent and Lord Gort were on a 
visit there, when the latter said to the host, "How I wish I 
could transport this castle to the banks of Lough Cooter ! " 
"Give me fifty thousand pounds and I'll doit for you," 
replied Nash. The viscount took him at his word ; and 
Nash built the Irish Castle, which, however, eventually cost 
more than twenty thousand pounds beyond the sum first 
named. By what a strange revolution of fortune it has 
come to pass that the family should lose the one and find 
their home in the other mansion ! 

The catastrophes incidental to the early operations of the 
Encumbered Estates Act were sure to prejudice Irish opinion 
against it, and to obscure from view the merits and advan- 
tages of the system it inaugurated. So far from the famine- 
period being an "opportunity" for such a measure, that was 
just the time when it ought to have been withheld. Forced 
into operation under circumstances so abnormal, it worked, 
during the first five years of its labors, the minimum of 
benefit with the maximum of suffering and sacrifice. From 
1855 to 1875 the functions of the new court have had fairer 
scope,* and its work has been more justly appreciated ; and 
no one in Ireland would now deny the advantage of a sys- 
tem which so largely frees and simplifies the transfer of land. 
I subjoin an exhibit of the proceedings from the filing of 
the first petition, 25th of October, 1849, to 31st of August, 
1857, being the concluding day of the seventh "session" of 
the commission : 



1. Number of petitions presented, including those for partition 

and exchange, as well as for sale 4164 

(Of the above, about 800 were supplemental, drawn and dis- 
missed petitions.) 

2. Number of absolute orders for sale 3341 

* By a supplementary or extending act — the Irish Landed Estates 
Act — in 1858 the powers of the court were extended to include proper- 
ties not encumbered. 



188 NEW IRELAND. 

3. Number of matters in which owners presented petitions . 1245 
(Of the first 100 petitions, six were presented by owners. Of 

the last 100 petitions, the owners of estates presented fifty- 
three.) 

4. Number of matters in which owners were bankrupts or in- 

solvents 357 

(In very many other cases, the owners of estates became bank- 
rupts or insolvents after the petitions were presented, and 
the proceedings were subsequently carried on in the name - 
of their assignees.) 

5. Number of conveyances executed by the commissioners . 7283 

6. Number of estates or parts of estates sold by provincial auc- 

tion, subsequently confirmed by the commissioners . . 338 
By private proposal, accepted by the commissioners. 
The remainder of the premises comprised in the above 7283 
conveyances were all sold by public auction, in court, be- 
fore the commissioners. 

7. Number of lots, viz. : 

By public auction, in court 7270 

By provincial auction 1436 

By private contract 1621 

10,327 

When the same person became the purchaser of several lots 
he generally had them included in the same conveyance. 

8. Number of boxes containing upward of 250,000 documents 

and muniments of title, deposited in the Record Office . 2395 

9. Number of cases which had been pending in the Court of 

Chancery before being brought into the Encumbered Es- 
tates Court 1267 

10. Number of Irish purchasers 7180 

11. Number of English, Scotch, and foreign purchasers . . 309 

12. Amount of purchase-money paid by English, 

Scotch, and foreign purchasers . . . £2,836,225 

13. Gross proceeds of sale to 31st August, 1857 : 

By public auction, in court .... £13,941,207 10 
By provincial auction .... 2,824,381 
By private contract 3,710,367 18 4 

£20,475,956 8~4 



The largest estate sold within that period — the largest ever 
sold by the court — was that of the Earl of Portarlingto 



THE ENCUMBERED ESTATES ACT 189 

which realized seven hundred thousand pounds. Very nearly 
the next in extent was that of Lord Mountcashel, — sixty-one 
thousand seven hundred and eleven acres, with a yearly rental 
of eighteen thousand five hundred pounds, — which was sold 
for two hundred and forty thousand pounds. Lord Mount- 
cashel, who considered himself treated with peculiar harsh- 
ness and injustice by the petitioners, was greatly angered with 
Mr. Commissioner Hargreave, before whom the sale was con- 
summated. The commissioner, as is well remembered in 
Dublin, \^as a very small-sized gentleman, and his office was 
situate on the bedroom story of the house 14 Henrietta 
Street, at that time used as the Landed Estate3 Court. Lord 
Mountcashel, during the proceedings, was heard to exclaim 
that it was bad enough to have his estates confiscated, but to 
be " sold up by a dwarf in a garret " was more than he could 
endure ! 

Since 1860 the transactions in the court have considerably 
changed in character. Adverse petitions by encumbrancers 
grow fewer, and applications by owners themselves, anxious 
to simplify title and to disentangle family settlements and 
arrangements, grow more and more frequent. The tribunal 
once viewed with such gloomy aversion is now regarded with 
something akin to national favor. 

The anticipations and prophecies about "English capital" 
have all proved illusory. It will be noticed from the statis- 
tics given above that up to August, 1857, out of seven thou- 
sand four hundred and eighty-nine purchasers, seven thousand 
one hundred and eighty were Irish ; only three hundred and 
nine were "English, Scotch, or foreigners." Out of twenty 
million four hundred and seventy-five thousand nine hundred 
and fifty-six pounds realized by the court up to the same date, 
more than five-sixths of the amount, or seventeen million six 
hundred and thirty-nine thousand seven hundred and thirty- 
one pounds, was Irish capital, invested by Irish purchasers ; 
and, although I am unable to verify the exact figures of the 
interval since then, I believe the proportion between Irish 



190 NEW IRELAND. 

and non-Irish purchasers remains very much the same to the 
present time. English capital has preferred Turkish bonds 
and Honduras loans. 

The tenantry in many instances complain that they have 
gained little and lost much in the change from the old mas- 
ters to the new. The latter are chiefly mercantile men who 
have saved money in trade and invest it for a safe percentage. 
They import what the country-people depreciatingly call " the 
ledger and day-book principle " into the management of their 
purchases, which contrasts unfavorably in their minds with 
the more elastic system of the old owners. Although not 
blind to the hardships which often attend this greater strict- 
ness, I consider the new system has introduced few more 
valuable reforms than this which enforces method, punctu- 
ality, and precision in the half-yearly settlements between 
landlord and tenant in Ireland. It is not conducive to a 
manly independence that the occupier should be permanently 
" behindhand with his rent ; " that is to say, beholden to the 
favor and sufferance of his lord. Much of the subjection and 
the slavishness of peasant life in the old Ireland grew out of 
this habitual arrear ; and one must honestly rejoice if it be 
changed in the new. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE TENANT LEAGUE. 

It was not to be expected that the enormous dimensions to 
which the "Famine clearances" had attained would fail to 
evoke some protest of public opinion. By 1850 the eviction- 
scenes had filled the land with uneasiness and alarm. The 
theory that had for a while lulled the country into a sort of 
tolerance of them — namely, that clearances and emigration 
would make things "better for those who went, and for 
those who remained " — gave place to apprehensions that in- 
tensified every day. As early as the spring of 1849, public 
meetings began to give a voice to the general sentiment, and 
ere many months the whole island was in moral revolt. Not 
one province alone — not one geographical section alone, as 
had hitherto been the case — declared for resistance. The 
sturdy Presbyterians of Down and Antrim and Deny were 
as resolute as the quick-blooded Catholic Celts of Cork and 
Mayo and Tipperary. For the first time in fifty years Ulster 
held out a hand to Munster in fraternal grasp. The ruin 
that had desolated the other provinces was beginning its 
work of destruction in the North. 

In studying the Irish land question, one is confronted in 
limine by what is called the "Ulster custom," or the "Uls- 
ter tenant-right. " To this custom, or right, Ulster is ad- 
mittedly indebted for the exceptional prosperity and content- 
ment of its agricultural population. To the absence of that 
custom — the denial of any such right — elsewhere in Ireland 
may be most largely attributed the dismal contrast which 
has prevailed in these respects. This Ulster system has 

191 



192 NEW IRELAND. 

within the past century been somewhat encroached upon, 
and now varies in different parts of the province, and even on 
different properties of the same owner. It grew out of the 
spirit more than the letter of the charters and grants under 
which Ulster was "planted" in the reign of James I. Sub- 
stantially it was a right of continuous occupancy by the tenant, 
at a fair rent, — one not raised by reason of any value added to 
the soil by the tenant's industry or outlay. This right of oc- 
cupancy grew to be in the aggregate a vast property, according 
as the tenants improved the soil and increased the value of 
their holdings. The tenant-right of many properties exceeded 
in value the fee-simple purchase. A property, be it supposed, 
the fair value of which, exclusive of tenant's improvements, 
was judged to be ten thousand pounds a year, or two hun- 
dred and fifty thousand pounds in all, half a century ago, 
had, by the labor and capital of the tenants expended there- 
upon, become value for twenty thousand pounds a year, or 
five hundred thousand pounds. Of this the landlord still 
owned but his two hundred and fifty thousand pounds ; the 
other two hundred and fifty thousand pounds belonged to the 
tenantry, was recognized to be as fully and legally theirs as 
the landlord's fee-simple was his. This tenant-right was 
bought and sold daily ; that is, the out-going sold to the in- 
coming tenant his interest in the farm. On a farm of fifty 
acres an Ulster tenant has often obtained twenty years', 
sometimes thirty years', purchase of the margin between his 
rent and the valuation, probably a sum of three thousand 
pounds. If a landlord wished to evict a tenant, he could do 
so by buying up from him the tenant-right of the farm. He 
could, of course, evict for non-payment of rent, or other 
reasons ; but in every such case he was bound to hand over 
in cash to the evicted tenant any balance remaining out oi 
the marketable value of the tenant-right of the holding after 
deducting the amount of rent, cost, or damages legally due. 
Or (very much the same in effect) the landlord might say to 
the tenant, "You are not paying your rent ; you are wast- 



\ 



THE TENANT LEAGUE. 193 

ing your farm ; you must quit ; go sell as best you can your 
tenant-right, pay me my claims, and go." 

Under this system — unknown or rather unrecognized by law 
outside of Ulster — that province bloomed like a garden and be- 
came the home of thrift and plenty, of contentment and pros- 
perity, even before the energy of the people, applied to manu- 
facturing industries, had opened for them new paths to wealth. 

How was it that this system, so fruitful in good result, was 
established in one province alone ? Why have the efforts of 
the tenant class elsewhere to obtain like rights been so steadily 
and vehemently resisted ? 

The answer is neither pleasant to tell nor agreeable to 
hear. Because Ulster was a " Plantation colony ; " because 
in Ulster the plantation landlords got their lands on implied 
or express condition of " planting " them, — rooting a popula- 
tion in the soil ; whereas elsewhere the policy of the time 
was to implant, to uproot, to clear away the Popish natives. 
Even where, in the other provinces, in course of time the 
uprooting became too odious or too dangerous, there still 
remained this much of its essence, in strong contrast to 
"the Ulster custom," namely, the axiom that the tenant 
had no right of continuous occupancy, held only from year 
to year on the landlord's sufferance, and was not regarded 
in law as owning a shilling's worth of even his own out- 
lay. If he drained or improved, so that bog-land worth two 
shillings an acre was made corn-land worth as many pounds, 
the landlord was legally entitled to call that improvement his, 
and to make that tenant pay two pounds an acre for that land. 

What could come of such a system as this, the cruel oppo- 
site of the "Ulster right," but a state of agriculture and a 
state of society the reverse of that which smiled on the 
northern province ? Negligence in place of thrift ; squalor 
in place of comfort and neatness ; hovels in place of houses ; * 

* There can be no doubt tbat the wretchedness of Irish peasant 
homes, their grievous disregard of comfort, neatness, or cleanliness, 
was derived almost entirely from the idea that improvement would 
9 



194 NEW IRELAND. 

insecurity, mistrust, ill-will, hostility between landlord and 
tenant ; a hatred of the Government, and a deadly hostility 
to the law, that drew this line of distinction, this line of 
oppression and wrong, between the Protestant North and 
the Popish South. If happily the evils one would have 
thought inevitable were not everywhere visible, it was in 
spite of the system, not because of it. If the landlord did 
not in every case appropriate in the shape of a raised rent 
the fruits of the tenant's industry, it was because that par- 
ticular landlord or family was more honest than the law. 

In a differently-constituted community — in a country where 
proprietor and cultivator were of one race and faith, boasted 
of the same nationality, and were on the whole moved by the 
same political aims — this system might perhaps work but 
little evil ; although the empowering of one class to profit 
by wronging another generally produces social conflict. But 
in the Celtic Catholic provinces of Ireland, where the soil 
was, as a rule, given over to be owned by men of one nation 
and creed, and tilled by men of another race and faith, 
where lord and peasant represented conqueror and conquered, 
what was such a code calculated to bring forth ? 

Besides, it was not merely that the farmers of Munster, 
Connaught, and Leinster saw equity made to be the law in 
the Protestant corner of the island, but that, moreover, this 
same right of continuous occupancy, at a fair rent or " lord's 
tribute," was, in truth, their own ancient Celtic tenure, to 
which they clung with inveterate tenacity. The subjection 
of Ireland to the English Crown — the confiscations of six 
centuries — meant, in their minds, change of masters to whom 
rent was payable, but never a change which annihilated 
their right to occupy the land on payment of its rent. In 

invoke a rise of rent. When I was a boy I was full of a glowing zeal 
for "cottage flower-gardens" and removal of threshold dung-heaps ; 
but my exhortations were all to no purpose. I was extinguished by 
the remark, "Begor, sir, if we make the place so nate as that, the 
agint will say we are able to pay more rint." 



THE TENANT LEAGUE. 195 

theory of law, no doubt, the new system came in when the 
Brehon Code disappeared in 1607 ; but for two centuries 
afterward the full nature and extent of the change as to 
land tenure was not recognized by the agricultural popula- 
tion. The treaty between England and Ireland, concluded 
on the capitulation of Limerick in 1691, contained many 
hard terms, though it secured some valuable rights for the 
latter country, which, though the pact was broken on the 
other side, never drew hostile sword again for more than a 
hundred years. Had the masses of the population, how- 
ever, realized that it was not merely a change of landlords, 
but a loss of right to live upon the soil, that the revolution 
brought for them, they would have bathed the island in 
blood before they submitted. As it was, according as the 
dreadful reality slowly dawned on them, they resisted it in 
their isolated, disorganized, and lawless way, by the rude 
and horrible warfare known in our sad annals as "agrarian 
outrage." The "Rapparees" and "Tories" of the last cen- 
tury—the "Whitefeet," the "Terryalts," the " Rockites," 
the "Defenders," the "Ribbonmen" — all these agrarian 
combinations and conspiracies were merely so many phases 
in what has been aptly called " a low form of civil war." 

But, it may be asked, how should Ulster tenants, blessed 
with so secure a tenure and with property so well protected, 
suffer by the ills which led to "clearances" elsewhere in 
1849 and 1850 ? The answer and explanation bring into 
view a feature or result of the Ulster system which few per- 
sons, even in that province itself, seem to have perceived. 
The Ulster custom was almost exclusively beneficial for the 
tenant as long as things went well ; but if a series of adverse 
seasons came, and the value of farm-holdings fell, the loss 
was exclusively his. Before the landlord's interest could be 
affected to the extent of a shilling, the tenant-right, equal in 
value to the fee-simple, should first be consumed. The rent 
was always a first lien on that tenant-right ; and as long as 
at auction it would fetch a penny more than the rent, the 



196 NEW IRELAND. 

landlord was in no way to suffer by " bad times." Of course 
there were to be found several Ulster landlords who in '48, 
'49, and '50 disdained to stand in this way on their undoubted 
right, and who stepped forward voluntarily to assist their 
tenantry ; but as a matter of fact the whole of the famine- 
losses came out of the margin of value which, in the form 
of tenant-right interest, stood between the landlords and any 
touch of disaster. The occasion, moreover, was seized by 
some of the northern landlords to buy up in hard bargains 
of the necessitous tenant, or to encroach upon and cramp 
and squeeze the ancient rights of which the Ulster farmers 
were so proud ; so that in 1850 the Derry Standard and 
Banner of Ulster newspapers were as " seditiously" violent 
in language as the Nation, the Cork Examiner, or the Free- 
man's Journal. 

Following upon the public meetings came the formation of 
what was called "Tenant Protection Societies." The first 
in point of time was established in Callan, county Kilkenny, 
where two young curates of the Catholic Church — Rev. 
Thomas O'Shea and Rev. Matthew Keeffe — had, by their 
passionate eloquence and earnest enthusiasm, aroused the 
whole population. But the North, the men of Ulster, led by 
the honored veteran of the tenant's cause, William Sharman 
Crawford, M.P., early took the front. It was not alone in 
their press and on their platforms the Ulster Presbyterians 
agitated tenant-right ; they imported it into their strictly 
ecclesiastical assemblages or synods, much to the horror of 
some of the elders. When the Rev. Mr. Rogers, of Comber, 
moved a resolution in the Presbyterian Synod of Ulster 
(May, 1850) that a petition be presented to Parliament in 
favor of tenant-right, Dr. Cooke said it was dreadful. Not 
that he was less ardent as a tenant-righter than the youngest 
of them ; but he had heard " rank communism " preached by 
some of the reverend brethren around him. Mr. Potter, of 
Islandmagee, asked him what he meant ; the land question 
was intimately connected with the moral and religious condi- 



THE TENANT LEAGUE. 197 

tion of their people. Dr. Cooke replied that some of the 
brethren had committed communism by " attacks on the no- 
bility and aristocracy of the land, thus violating the word of 
God, which says, ' Thou shalt not speak evil of the ruler of 
my people ; ' " which he interpreted there and then to mean, 
not merely the Queen, but all concerned in governing the 
country. This was rather too much for the synod. 

Rev. Mr. Eogeks. — "With regard to the Socialist doc- 
trines alleged to have been taught by tenant-right advocates, 
I shall just say that for the last two hundred years Socialism 
has been all on the other side (hear, hear). The entire out- 
lay of the tenant-farmers has gone periodically into the 
pockets of the landlords. A small minority have swallowed 
up the property of nine-tenths of the province " 

Dr. Cooke. — " Now, here it is : we have Socialism 
preached here in the synod ! " 

Mr. Rogers. — " I state a fact. It would seem to be for- 
gotten by some members that the poor man has property 
which should be as fully secured as that of the rich." 

Eventually, by a large majority, the synod resolved, " That 
the synod do petition Parliament that whatever measure they 
may adopt to adjust the relations of landlord and tenant in 
Ireland, such measure shall secure to the tenant-farmers of 
Ulster, in all its integrity, the prescriptive usage of that 
province, known by the name of tenant-right." 

Then came the adoption of the petition referred to, when 
ground was for the first time boldly taken by those Presby- 
terian clergymen on an issue which at the present hour, in 
1877, occupies the attention of Parliament, — the extension 
by law to the rest of Ireland of rights and securities analo- 
gous to those of the Ulster custom. Dr. Cooke in grief 
declared that this was what came of the public sin of Presby- 
terian ministers being seen on the one political platform with 
Romish priests. Then — 

Mr. Rogers. — "There has been a serious objection raised 
against me in reference to my conduct because I have co- 



198 NEW IRELAND. 

operated with Popish priests. I may have been wrong in so 
doing ; and all I wish to say on the subject is that in doing 
it I was only following the example of Dr. Cooke." 

Dr. Cooke. — "I defy you to show I ever co-operated with 
one. Where or when was it ? " 

Mr. Rogers. — "Precisely in reference to the site of the 
Queen's College. I was present at a meeting at which Dr. 
Cooke and Dr. Denvir, Catholic bishop, were both present." 

This dreadful imputation, however, the venerable old 
clergyman was able to disprove ; but he could not shake the 
determination of the synod to pass its approval of the great 
agitation now proceeding out-of-doors. 

The evil which so appalled Dr. Cooke — Presbyterian and 
Catholic clergymen co-operating on the same platform — was 
soon to obtain wide dimensions. The necessity for a central 
authority to take charge of the new movement had become 
deeply felt ; and it was a very obvious advantage to organize 
in one great association the numerous tenant societies, and 
like local bodies, so far working independently all over the 
island. On the 27th of April, 1850, the following announce- 
ment appeared in the Irish newspapers : 

" A conference is about to be summoned in Dublin in wbicb tbe ten- 
ant societies of the four provinces will have an opportunity of compar- 
ing their views and taking measures together. The parties who have 
united in summoning it belong to all sections of the popular party, and 
have nothing in common but a desire to bring this question to a satis- 
factory settlement. Their circular is about being sent to all existing 
tenant societies, to the popular journalists, and to the most active and 
influential friends of tenant-right in localities which have not yet been 
organized." 

The circular was signed by three prominent representative 
men, of as many different creeds, — Dr. (subsequently Sir 
John) Gray, proprietor and editor of the Freeman's Journal, 
Church-of-England Protestant; Samuel McCurdy Greer, 
barrister-at-law (subsequently member for Derry County), 
Ulster Presbyterian ; and Frederick Lucas, proprietor and 



THE TENANT LEAGUE. 199 

editor of the Tablet, Catholic. The proposal was enthusias- 
tically approved throughout the kingdom. In every prov- 
ince and every county there was, during the early summer 
months, hut the one subject of public effort, anxiety, and in- 
terest, — the forthcoming Tenant Conference. 

On the 6th of August, 1850, a truly remarkable assem- 
blage filled to overflowing the City Assembly House, William 
Street, Dublin, the use of which was specially voted by the 
Civic Council. The sharp Scottish accent of Ulster mingled 
with the broad Doric of Munster. Presbyterian ministers 
greeted "Popish priests with fraternal fervor." Mr. James 
Godkin, editor of the stanch Covenanting Berry Standard 
(a gentleman whose signal literary abilities have been con- 
sistently devoted to the impartial service of Irish interests), 
sat side by side with John Francis Maguire of the Ultramon- 
tane Cork Examiner. Magistrates and landlords were there ; 
while of tenant delegates every province sent up a great 
array. By general acclaim an Ulster Presbyterian journalist, 
James McKnight, LL.D.,* editor of the Banner of Ulster, 
was voted to the chair. The Conference sat for four days. 
Resolutions were adopted declaring that " a fair valuation 
of rent between landlord and tenant in Ireland " was indis- 
pensable; that "the tenant should not be disturbed in his 
possession so long as he paid such rent;" and that "the 
tenant should have a right to sell his interest with all its in- 
cidents at the highest market value." 

Early in its deliberations the Conference was confronted 
with a subject of some difficulty. During the famine years 
there had accrued all over the country arrears of rent, which, 
even where not pressed for and made the excuse for immedi- 
ate eviction, remained "on the books" against the tenantry, 
hanging over them like a sword of Damocles. It was felt 

* It is but a year since Dr. McKnight closed a long life of honorable 
labor in the service of his co-religionists and countrymen of Ulster. 
In learning and ability, as well as in high personal character, he stood 
among the front rank of Irish press-men. 



200 NEW IRELAND. 

that a really wise national Government would declare "ar- 
rears " which had thus accrued — by a dreadful visitation of 
Providence, prolonged through three or four years — a public 
burden to be discharged or commuted by the State. The 
Conference was clearly of opinion that it would be vain try- 
ing to settle the Irish Land question if by reason of these 
" famine arrears" the whole tenantry might at any moment 
be overwhelmed. Eventually this resolution was adopted : 

" That in any valuation which shall be made before the 31st Decem- 
ber, , the valuators shall , on the demand of either landlord or tenant, 

inquire into the arrears of rent due by the tenant ; shall estimate the 
amount which during the famine years would have been due and pay- 
able for rent under a valuation, if such had been made, according to 
the prices and circumstances of same years, and also the amount which 
during the same period has actually been paid for rent to the land- 
lord ; shall award the balance, if any, to be the arrears then due ; and 
that the amount so awarded for arrears be payable by instalments at 
such period as shall be fixed by the valuators, and shall be recoverable 
in all respects as if it were rent." 

On the third day a new organization was established, 
called "The Irish Tenant League." On the fourth a Coun- 
cil was chosen, consisting of one hundred and twenty gentle- 
men from the four provinces, and the Conference separated, 
having contributed to Irish political history within this 
generation one of its most notable events. Many leading 
men in England quickly realized the import of what had 
been done. The Conference had barely closed its sittings 
when Mr. John Bright drew attention to the subject in the 
House of Commons : 

" The noble lord at the head of the Government had referred to a 
few bills ; among the rest to the Landlord and Tenant Bill. That 
subject was now a matter of the first importance, not alone as regard- 
ed the people of Ireland, but with regard to what had just taken 
place (hear, hear). A Conference had been sitting in Dublin of earnest 
men from all parts of Ireland (hear, hear). Now, sir (continued the 
honorable gentleman), without agreeing in all that has been said and 
done by that Conference, we cannot shut our eyes to the fact of its 



THE TENANT LEAGUE. 201 

importance, and that it will be the means of evoking a more formid- 
able agitation than has been witnessed for many years (hear, hear). 
Instead of the agitation being confined, as heretofore, to the Roman 
Catholics and their clergy, Protestant and Dissenting clergymen seem 
to be amalgamated with Roman Catholics at present ; indeed there 
seems an amalgamation of all sects on this question, and I think it 
time the House should resolutely legislate on it (hear, hear)." 

That was August, 1850. John Bright was before his time. 
Twenty years subsequently — after feelings had been embit- 
tered, hopes betrayed, homes wrecked, families scattered, 
and passions roused to fury — the House of Commons found 
a minister of the Crown acting on the advice thus tendered 
by " the member for Kochdale." 

Through the summer and autumn of 1850 the country 
flung itself into the new movement with energy, enthusiasm, 
and unanimity. But a parliamentary policy requires a 
parliamentary party to carry it into effect, and the Tenant 
League had as yet no such party. The Irish representation 
of that time was but a miserable parody of reality. Elected 
in the dismal years of famine and insurrection, panic and 
despair, — when the people recked as little who scrambled on 
the hustings as how the idle breezes blew, — the Irish mem- 
bers of 1850 represented little more than the personal views 
and interests of the individuals themselves. The cowering 
reaction, the political prostration, that followed the fever of 
1848, was sadly reflected in their array. It was by accident 
that the League could reckon on the support of even half a 
dozen men of genuine earnestness and sincerity among them. 
The only hope of that organization was that by efficient agi- 
tation they might create a public opinion which would at 
the next opportunity send to Parliament men of ability and 
integrity devoted to the tenant's cause. The Irish Liberal 
members, such as they were, regarded the Land League with 
no great favor. It was plainly calculated to put them in a 
dilemma. They believed in attaching themselves to the 
official Liberals of Westminster regions, — to the powers who 
9* 



202 NEW IRELAND. 



dispensed patronage and pay, emoluments, titles, and dis- 
tinctions. To serve Lord John Eussell, to obey his whips, 
until some day a governorship of the Leeward Islands or an 
embassy to Timbuctoo might reward his patriotism, was the 
great aim and purpose of an Irish Liberal member in those 
days. But these troublesome tenant-right fellows were go- 
ing on lines which were incompatible with this. The ten- 
ant-right demands were not favored by the Government, — 
were likely to be opposed by Lord John. What was an 
Irish Liberal to do ? Break with the ministry, and lose 
all chance of a place, — or reject the tenant-right shibboleth, 
and lose all chance of re-election ? The resolution taken by 
most men of this type was to " trim ; " to hold with the 
tenant-righters as far as was judiciously requisite, but to 
break with the Treasury bench on no account. 

There were men in the ranks of the League who saw all 
this ; who accurately measured and weighed the worth of 
adhesion on the part of such public representatives ; and 
who rightly judged that the real danger and weakness of the 
popular movement would begin when they affected to em- 
brace it. 

Out of the intense earnestness of the Leaguers — their soul- 
felt conviction that they were fighting a life-and-death strug- 
gle for the Irish race — grew the policy or doctrine known in 
recent Irish politics as " Independent Opposition." It de- 
clared that so momentous was this issue, all others for the 
time must give way to it, and that to every ministry who re- 
fused or hesitated to settle a question so vital for Ireland, 
uncompromising opposition should be given by Irish mem- 
bers. This doctrine made its appearance in 1851. It was 
the teaching of what were called " extreme " tenant-righters, 
and was not liked at all by the old-school politicians. The 
idea of Irish Catholic and Liberal members acting with the 
Tory opposition under any conceivable circumstances was 
too startling a novelty for them. Dr. Cooke was not more 
alarmed by the vision of Presbyterian ministers co-operat- 






THE TENANT LEAGUE. 203 

ing with Popish priests. Nevertheless, so thoroughly did 
the public judgment eventually approve the proposition that 
it became an article of the national faith. 

As in a distant mountain- tarn or valley-stream we find the 
source of some great river which divides nation from nation, 
so here we have the first appearance in Anglo-Irish politics 
of a policy which even at the present day separates the Irish 
popular representation in Parliament from imperial parties. 
Hitherto the policy and practice of that body had been to 
attach themselves to and form a portion of the general ''Lib- 
eral party " in the House of Commons. The Tories were re- 
garded as the "natural enemies" of Catholic Irishmen, the 
Whigs their only possible protectors ; albeit these patrons 
exhibited betimes a rather contumelious regard for their Irish 
auxiliaries. But now salus populi supremo, lex est ; nothing 
that Whigs or Tories could do, short of saving the people 
from destruction, was to determine the support or existence 
of Irish representatives. 

While the Presbyterian North and Catholic South were 
thus clasping hands and marching on side by side, there burst 
upon Ireland a storm in which they were to be hopelessly 
sundered. On the 4th of November, 1850, Lord John Rus- 
sell, the Liberal Premier, issued his celebrated "Durham 
Letter." The organization of the Catholic Church in Eng- 
land had just been restored to its parochial and diocesan 
form. The prelates, in place of being "bishops in partibus 
infidelium," were to be bishops of the districts actually under 
their charge, — Westminster, Nottingham, Liverpool, or 
South wark, as the case might be. " Any one can stir up Eng- 
land with the Pope " used to be said in joke. It was now 
proved to be a fact in good earnest. The idea got abroad 
that in some way or another this arrangement would derogate 
from the Queen's authority and overthrow the national liber- 
ties. "Brass money and wooden shoes " were to be brought 
back. The Pope was to be installed at Windsor ; and the 
worst days of " Bloody Mary " would return. This, no doubt, 



204 NEW IRELAND. 

was the sensitiveness, the exaggerated sensitiveness, of a 
Protestant nation alarmed by anything that looked like the 
re-imposition of a spiritual authority it had thrown off. In 
the panic of the moment Englishmen totally overlooked the 
fact which subsequently so embarrassed them, that in Ireland 
this same parochial and diocesan system already prevailed — 
had never been given up. The Most Rev. Dr. Murray, the Cath- 
olic Archbishop of Dublin, had been addressed by that title in 
official Government communications, and as such was received 
at court ; yet no one had ever discovered that Queen Victoria 
was in danger, or the fabric of British power shaken to its 
base. When nations and peoples are moved by panic or alarm, 
there is an end for the time to reasoning. There were men 
in England — some of its leading statesmen — who realized 
the absurdity and consequent mischief of this " No Popery'' 
cry, and who foresaw that in a few years their country, 
ashamed of its foolish fears and undignified passion, would 
be undoing what it now was rushing to do. There were 
others who "went with the stream," who saw that from the 
palace to the cottage the conviction had spread that this 
was "papal aggression " and must at all hazards be resisted 
and punished. The Premier, the leader of the Liberal 
party, in a letter to the Bishop of Durham, gave the signal 
for war, and instantly there broke forth all over the land 
such a storm of religious fury and strife as had not been 
known since the days of the Lord George Gordon riots. 
Protestant and Catholic drew apart, — scowled and glowered 
at each other ; life-long friendships were snapped ; neighbor 
was arrayed against neighbor ; each side imputed the most 
desperate designs to the other, and " To your tents, 
Israel ! " became the cry on all hands. 

Here was a fatal trial for the Tenant League, — a cruel 
blow to the new companionship of Protestant and Catholic 
Irishmen in effort for the common good. 

Parliament opened on the 4th ei February, 1851. Two 
days subsequently, Lord John Eussell introduced the Eccle- 



THE TENANT LEAGUE. 205 

siastical Titles Bill, rendering the assumption of territorial 
titles by the Catholic bishops illegal, and punishable with 
heavy penalties. On the 14th the Government were unable 
to command a majority of more than fourteen votes on a 
hostile motion by Mr. Disraeli,* and a "ministerial crisis" 
ensued. After no less than five ineffectual attempts to form 
a new ministry, the Whigs returned to office in the first week 
of March. In the ensuing session the Ecclesiastical Titles 
Bill was passed into law. During the whole of that year it 
was the one subject which occupied the public mind. When 
the Parliament came to enact punishment for the new ar- 
rangement in England, it was confronted by the awkward 
fact that such " ecclesiastical titles" had always existed, and 
had been always recognized, on the western side of St. 
George's Channel. What was to be done? The Act of 
Union fused the Irish and English Protestant Churches into 
one indivisible and indissoluble body, — " The United Church 
of England and Ireland." If it was an " aggression " on 
this Church to have a Catholic bishop of Liverpool, so must 
it be to- have a Catholic bishop of Cork. Yet what had the 
latter dignitary done that he should now be punished for 
using his lawful and accustomed designation ? What had 
the Catholics of Ireland done to draw down upon them this 
penal law ? The dilemma was not pleasant for English 
legislators ; but they were not in a mood to stop at trifles : 
they extended the act to Ireland ! 

The Catholic leaders in the tenant-right movement saw 
with grief that an issue had arisen which would surely dom- 
inate the Land question and would split North from South ; 
yet throughout all this time they manfully held on to the 

* " That the severe distress which continues to exist in the United 
Kingdom among that important class of her Majesty's subjects the 
owners and occupiers of land, and which is justly lamented in her 
Majesty's speech, renders it the duty of ministers to introduce without 
delay such measures as may fee most effectual for the relief thereof." 
Ayes, 267 ; noes, 281, 



206 NEW IRELAND. 

platform on which Protestant and Catholic had vowed to 
unite. On Friday, the 20th of February, 1852, the Whig 
ministry were defeated by a majority of eleven on their 
Militia Bill. Lord Derby took office as head of a Tory ad- 
ministration, and announced that Parliament would be dis- 
solved in the approaching summer. 

A shout of exultation arose in Ireland. Here was the 
opportunity for the League, — the general election for which 
they had so long prayed and waited ! With a fierce energy 
the tenant-righters flung themselves into the struggle. Since 
1829 no such desperate efforts had been put forth. All the 
earthly hopes of the Irish people seemed fixed on the return 
of an honest and independent Irish party to Parliament, so 
that the work of "the Crowbar Brigade " might be arrested 
and tenant homesteads be saved from confiscation and ruin. 
There was no " vote by ballot " then ; and the hapless tenant 
who went against the landlord's candidate dared certain doom. 
As it turned out, a civil war could scarcely have brought 
heavier penalties on the people than those which followed 
upon this general election of 1852. 

At the close of the polls some fifty tenant-right members 
— men professing allegiance to the principles of the League, 
and elected on such professions — were seated for Irish constit- 
uencies. In the first flush of popular joy and triumph over 
this result, no one ventured to sift the so-called gains and 
speculate how many of these men were sincere and how many 
had shouted with the people only to betray their confidence. 
A goodly stride, however, had undoubtedly been taken to- 
ward reforming the personnel of the Irish popular represen- 
tation. Among the men who entered Parliament for the 
first time on this occasion were the two to whose genius and 
abilities, fidelity and devotion, the League was most largely 
indebted, — Charles Gavan Duffy and Frederick Lucas. With 
them there also appeared John Francis Maguire, Patrick 
M'Mahon, Tristram Kennedy, Richard Swift, John Brady, 
and others whose names have since become more or less 



THE TENANT LEAGUE. 207 

familiar in Irish politics. A Liberal-Conservative, who had 
previously sat for Harwich, was returned for the borough of 
Youghal, and is thus referred to in the Nation of the 17th 
of July, 1852 : 

" In Youghal, Isaac Butt, the Irishman, has beaten Fortescue, the 
son of an English Whip peer. We are delighted that Mr. Butt sits in 
an Irish seat. Though he be a Conservative, his heart is genuinely 
Irish, and as a man of noble talents he is an honor to his country." 

All over the island there was rejoicing. Ireland, turning 
from theories of physical force and insurrection, was now to 
see what constitutional effort could do. In August, 1852, 
the tenant-right movement was at the zenith of its power. 
How it fell, how it was overthrown, can best be told in the 
story which traces the romantic and tragic career of John 
Sadleir. 



CHAPTEE XIV. 

"THE BEASS BAND." 

The destruction of the popular movement of 1850-1852, 
completing as it did the overthrow of popular confidence in 
constitutional politics, led to consequences utterly deplor- 
able. Indissolubly associated in the gloomy memories of 
that time *are the names of John Sadleir and William 
Keogh. 

John Sadleir was born in Tipperary some sixty years ago. 
Among the few Catholic families of position in that county, 
the Scullys and the Sadleirs held a good place, the first- 
named especially, and in the last generation the two had 
been linked by marriage. At an early age young John was 
apprenticed to a solicitor, and in due time entered upon 
practice in that branch of the law. He was early distin- 
guished for abilities even beyond those called forth in his 
profession, and for an ambition that could not fail to lead 
him eventually to some high position. He decided to make 
for the great metropolis, where a wide field was open to such 
talents as he commanded. In London he pursued the spe- 
cial avocation of "parliamentary agent," and, what with 
his Irish connection and his masterly skill, he rose rap- 
idly. He soon soared higher and entered the circles of 
finance ; his clear vision had discerned a road to results it 
would have seemed madness just then to mention. His fam- 
ily — the Sadleirs and Scullys and Keatinges — were moneyed 
men, and were widely known as such throughout his native 
county. Seeing what he could do with money in the great 
world of London, and well knowing that the Irish banking 

208 






" THE BRASS BAND." 209 

systems had not yet been brought to the doors of the people 
so as to tap the humble hoards of the farming-classes, he de 
termined to set up a local bank ; and so the " Tipperary 
Joint-Stock Bank" was established. It became a great suc- 
cess. AVherever a branch was set up it supplanted that ven- 
erable institution the "old stocking"' as a receptacle for sav- 
ings or depository of marriage-portions. From the Shannon 
to the Suir, " Sadleirs bank" was regarded with as much 
confidence as " the old lady of Threadneedle Street" com- 
mands from her votaries. Yet, from what I could ever 
learn, it performed only half the functions of a bank. It 
received all ; it lent little. John, in fact, had other use for 
the money in London besides lending it to Paddy Ryan to 
buy cattle, or Tom Dwyer to drain his land. He was rising 
hand over hand, among the highest and boldest of specula- 
tive financiers. The time came for a new step in his ambi- 
tious scheme. Public life was to play its part in his designs. 
The imperial Parliament was to supply him with an arena 
for distinction. Not only would he enter it, but, deter- 
mined to become a power therein, he would surround him- 
self with a family band, as the nucleus of a party of which 
he should be leader. Amidst the gloom of the famine-years 
he found the opportunity for effecting this portion of his 
scheme. In the general election of 1847 he was returned for 
the borough of Carlow .; his cousin Robert Keatinge for Wa- 
terford County ; and his cousin Frank Scully for Tipperary. 
In 1850 he occupied an enviable position. The repute of 
his wealth, the extent of his influence, above all, the worship 
of his success, was on every lip. "Whatever he took in hand 
succeeded ; whatever he touched turned to gold. He was, 
every one said, one of your eminently practical politicians ; 
no mere agitator, but a man of sagacity and prudence, whose 
name alone guaranteed the soundness of a scheme or the wis- 
dom of a suggestion. He was a decided Liberal and an ar- 
dent Catholic, and very soon made his mark among the Irish 
members. 



210 NEW IRELAND. 

Side by side with him, in the same year, there entered 
Parliament, for the borough of Athlone, a man equally re- 
markable in his own way, — Mr. William Keogh. Although 
some mysterious affinity seemed to bring the men together, 
and linked them in a joint career, they were dissimilar as 
possible in many respects. Mr. Keogh was a barrister-at- 
law, but, unlike Sadleir, had been no success at his profes- 
sion, — though not for want of splendid abilities. The one 
man was a model of financial punctuality and business exact- 
ness ; the other certainly was not. Mr. Sadleir was a man 
of few words, strict and stern, reserved, and almost senten- 
tious ; Mr. Keogh was the life and soul of every circle in 
which he moved, ever brimming over with animal spirits, 
full of bonlwmmie, sparkling with wit, and abounding with 
jovial good nature. He was a most persuasive speaker. His 
voice was rich, powerful, and capable of every inflection. 
His manner was intensely earnest. His social qualities, his 
intellectual gifts, made him a universal favorite. Yet from 
the very first, despite his emotional patriotism and captivat- 
ing eloquence, there were people who doubted his political 
sincerity. His whole position and circumstances, to their 
minds, too obviously suggested that the prize of public life 
for him must be some gift from the hand of the Govern- 
ment adequate as the price of such a convert. 

The outburst of the " Papal Aggression " storm in Eng- 
land was hailed with very different feelings by the Sadleir 
group and by the Tenant League leaders. The latter had 
just built up a platform of united action for Protestant and 
Catholic Irishmen, and here had this fatal issue come to 
rend them asunder. The former saw with joy that in this 
new agitation, which bade fair to extinguish the League, 
they could get the country completely into their own hands. 
England went wild with "No Popery " fanaticism ; Ireland 
was aflame with alarm and passion. Protestant and Catholic 
were daily becoming more and more hopelessly antagonized. 
The Catholics in the Tenant League strove manfully to make 



" TEE BRASS BAND." 211 

head against the current. A proposition to establish a 
"Catholic Defense Association" was openly opposed by 
Duffy in the Nation. In the flames of religious bigotry, 
he said, the hopes of Ireland would perish. Knaves and 
hypocrites, he declared, Avould rant and rave as tremendous 
Catholics, and lash the multitude into madness about " Our 
holy Church," in order that they might effect the destruc- 
tion of a popular movement which threatened to sweep away 
speculative politicians. We shall not serve the Church the 
more, he prophesied, but we shall lose the Land. He pleaded 
in vain. Challenged as the Irish Catholics were by the penal 
legislation of Lord John Russell's Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, 
it was not in human nature to lie still and take no measures 
for defensive warfare. John Sadleir and his party sprang 
into the front rank of the Catholic defense movement. The 
Ecclesiastical Titles Bill was encountered with the most de- 
termined opposition. " The Pope's Brass Band," the Eng- 
lish press called the score of Irish Liberals who fought the 
bill so vehemently ; "the Irish Brigade," they were proudly 
and fondly designated at home. Their conduct was the 
theme of praise by Irish Catholic firesides. Blessings were 
invoked on those devoted and heroic men, the brave defenders 
of the Catholic religion ; but, above all, benedictions were 
showered on the most defiant and dauntless, the most able 
and eloquent of the band, — Mr. William Keogh. 

The obnoxious bill was passed. The " Brigade " returned 
home to receive a nation's gratitude. A worthless array, 
verily, were they, for the most part. Some few, unquestion- 
ably, were men of high principle and sterling honesty; 
others were mere political hacks, sordid and selfish ; while 
the Sadleir group, skillful, eloquent, influential, now virtu- 
ally masters of the situation, were playing a bold and ambi- 
tious game. 

On Tuesday, 23d of August, 1851, an aggregate meeting 
of the Catholics of Great Britain and Ireland was held in 
the Rotunda, Dublin, to protest against the Titles Bill and to 



212 NEW IRELAND. 

take measures for Catholic defense. The Most Eev. Dr. 
Cullen, at that time Archbishop of Armagh, filled the chair. 
There was a great array of Catholic bishops and clergy, as 
well as of Catholic noblemen and members of Parliament. 
Mr. John Sadleir, M.P., was one of the honorary secretaries 
to the meeting ; his cousin Mr. Vincent Scully was one of 
the speakers, and Mr. W. Keogh, M.P., was another. The 
latter gentleman delighted the assemblage by his eloquent 
denunciation of the Penal Act, which had just received the 
royal assent. He, for one, would trample on and defy the 
law. He drew from his pocket a copy of the new statute, 
and, holding it forth, said, " I now, as one of her Majesty's 
counsel, holding the act of Parliament in my hand, unhesi- 
tatingly give his proper title to the Lord Archbishop of 
Armagh." He then went on to promise that he and his 
friends would have the hostile act repealed if the people 
of Ireland would but send them a few more parliamentary 
colleagues. "We will have no terms," said he, " with any 
minister, no matter who he may be, until he repeals that act 
of Parliament, and every other which places the Eoman 
Catholic on a lower platform than his Protestant fellow- 
subject." 

Despite the marked favor which they had won from the 
Catholic prelates, clergy, and people, and notwithstandin 
the violence of their protestations, Messrs. Sadleir and Keog 
were the objects of suspicion and mistrust on the part of 
few keen observers of passing affairs in Ireland. It wa: 
noted that Lord Aberdeen, Sir James Graham, Mr. Sidney 
Herbert, Mr. Cardwell, and many leading Peelites had re- 
sisted the "No Popery" scare in England, and had fought 
against the Titles Bill in Parliament. Among these states- 
men, accurately enough, some persons saw a possible cabinet 
of the future, and already some idea that the Sadleir group 
were operating in view of such a contingency was whispered 
about. A base calumny, a cruel suspicion, an assassin stab, 
Mr. Keogh proclaimed it to be. The three leading popular 



" THE BRASS BAND." 213 

journalists of Ireland — Mr. Duffy, of the Nation, Dr. Gray, 
of the Freeman, and Mr. Lucas, of the Tablet — were very 
plainly imbued with some such conviction, and between them 
and the Sadleir party a deadly dislike smoldered. The 
latter, however, were the popular idols of the hour. On the 
28th of October, 1851, Mr. Keogh was entertained by his 
constituents at a public banquet, which partook rather of the 
character of a national demonstration. No hall in Athlone 
was large enough to accommodate the gathering, which was 
held in a huge pavilion, erected, I believe, on the cathedral 
grounds. The guest of the evening, after an effusive eulo- 
gium on Archbishop MacHale, who was present, alluded to 
the insinuations above referred to. In language the earnest- 
ness and solemnity of which touched every heart he repelled 
them. "Whigs or Tories," said he, "Peelitesor Protec- 
tionists, are all the same to me. I will fight for my religion 
and my country, scorning and defying calumny. I' declare, 
in the most solemn manner, before this august assembly, I 
shall not regard any party. I know that the road I take 
does not lead to preferment. I do not belong to the Whigs ; 
I do not belong to the Tories. Here, in the presence of my 
constituents and my country, — and I hope I am not so base 
a man as to make an avowal which could be contradicted 
to-morrow if I was capable of doing that which is insinuated 
against me, — I solemnly declare if there was a Peelite ad- 
ministration in office to-morrow it would be nothing to me. 
I will not support any party which does not make it the first 
ingredient of their political existence to repeal the Ecclesi- 
astical Titles Act. " In like solemn manner he pledged his 
troth that he would oppose, or not support, any party which 
did not undertake to settle the Land question and abolish 
the Established Church. Finally, he turned at the Irish 
landlords, whom he denounced as "a heartless aristocracy," 
— "the most heartless, the most thriftless, and the most in- 
defensible landocracy on the face of the earth." 

Those who were present say that no one who heard the 



214 NEW IRELAND. 

speaker, and looked into his face, as, glowing with indigna- 
tion, he made these protestations, could have been so unfeel- 
ing as to doubt him. Doubted, nay, openly denounced, he 
and the rest of the Sadleir folloAving nevertheless were in the 
Nation and Tablet, Lucas and Duffy having thus early re- 
ceived some private proofs that the Brigade meant to be in 
the market on the first favorable opportunity. Early in 1852 
a vacancy occurred in Cork County, and another of Mr. 
Sadleir's cousins, Mr. V. Scully, appeared as a candidate. 
The more honest and keen-sighted of the Tenant League 
party in the locality did not take very kindly to him, but 
Mr. Keogh went down specially to campaign for him, and 
the full strength of the Sadleir party was put forth. There 
was a public meeting in Cork city on the 8th of March, 
1852, to consider the merits of the Liberal candidates, and 
Mr. McCarthy Downing — whose public influence, in at all 
events the West Eiding, was admitted to be paramount — 
seeing Mr. Keogh present, boldly " belled the cat" as fol- 
lows : 

" I will tell the meeting fairly and honestly that I helieve the Irish 
Brigade are not sincere advocates of the tenant-right question. I state 
that, and I believe it is in the presence of two of them. I attended 
two great meetings in the Music Hall in Dublin, at the inauguration of 
the Tenant League, at my own expense, when a deputation waited 
upon the Brigade to attend the meeting, and I protest I never saw a 
beast drawn to the slaughter-house by the butcher to receive the 
knife with more difficulty than there was in bringing to that meeting 
the members of the Irish Brigade." 

Then up rose Mr. Keogh ; and never, perhaps, were his 
marvelous gifts more requisite than at this critical moment. 
The future fate and fortunes of his leader and party hung 
on the turn affairs might take at this meeting, an open chal- 
lenge and public charge having been thus flung down against 
them. There were a few hostile cries when he stood up ; 
but silence was after a while obtained. With flushed coun- 
tenance and heaving breast, he burst forth in these words : 



" THE BRASS BAND." 215 

" Great God ! " he exclaimed, " in this assemblage of Irish- 
men have you found that those who are most ready to take 
every pledge have been the most sincere in perseverance to 
the end, or have you not rather seen that they who, like 
myself, went into Parliament perfectly unpledged, not sup- 
ported by the popular voice, but in the face of popular ac- 
claim, when the time for trial comes are not found wanting ? 
I declared myself in the presence of the bishops of Ireland, 
and of my colleagues in Parliament, that let the minister of 
the day be who he may — let him be the Earl of Derby, let 
him be Sir James Graham, or Lord John Russell — it was all 
the same to us ; and so help me God, no matter who the 
minister may be, no matter who the party in power may be, 
I will support neither that minister nor that party, unless he 
comes into power prepared to carry the measures which uni- 
versal popular Ireland demands. I have abandoned my own 
profession to join in cementing and forming an Irish parlia- 
mentary party. That has been my ambition. It may be a base 
one, I think it an honorable one. I have seconded the prop- 
osition of Mr. Sharman Crawford in the House of Commons. 
I have met the minister upon it to the utmost extent of my 
limited abilities, at a moment when disunion was not ex- 
pected. So help me God ! upon that and every other ques- 
tion to which I have given my adhesion, I will be — and I 
know I may say that every one of my friends is as deter- 
mined as myself — an unflinching, undeviating, unalterable 
supporter of it." 

No wonder the assemblage that had listened as if spell- 
bound while he spoke, sprang to their feet, and with vocifer- 
ous cheering atoned for the previous doubts of the man 
whose oath had now sealed his public principles. Alas ! 
barely nine months later on he went over bodily to the min- 
ister of the day, and took office under an administration 
which neither repealed the Titles Act, abolished the Estab- 
lished Church, nor settled the Land question! 

John Sadleir had marked well the power wielded against 



216 NEW IRELAND. 

him by Duffy, Gray, and Lucas in the metropolitan press. 
The opposition of the Nation, the Freeman, and the Tablet 
alone seemed to stand between him and the complete com- 
mand of Irish popular politics. The Catholic bishop's, 
almost to a man, and the great majority of the priests, be- 
lieved confidently in him and Mr. Keogh, and regarded the 
suggested suspicions or open imputations of the Nation and 
Tablet as the mischievous hostility of extreme and violent 
politicians. Still it was highly dangerous for him to go 
forward with these three fortresses unreduced on his flank. 
He determined to silence them effectually, — to destroy them. 
By this time he had become almost a millionaire. Fifty 
thousand pounds flung boldly into the establishment of op- 
position journals would soon dispose of the Nation, Tablet, 
and Freeman. Ere long Dublin rang with the news that a 
gigantic newspaper scheme was being launched, "regardless 
of expense," by Mr. Sadleir. The leader of the Irish Bri- 
gade, the Defender of the Church, the man of success, had 
now decided to break ground in a new direction, and estab- 
lish a real, genuine, orthodox Catholic press for the million. 
Commodious premises were taken ; powerful machinery and 
extensive plant were purchased ; and an editor, who was given 
out to be a sort of lay pontiff, Mr. William Bernard McCabe, 
was brought over from London. The new weekly, called 
the Weekly Telegraph, was first to clear the ground of the Na- 
tion and Tablet, before the new daily tackled the Freeman. 
Perhaps ere that time Dr. Gray, intimidated by the beggary 
brought on Duffy and Lucas, would knock under to the 
great power of Sadleirism. If not, he too could be mopped 
out. 

Never was there a more daring and comprehensive design 
to bring the whole popular opinion and political influence of 
a country into the grasp of one bold and ambitious man. 

The Telegraph was issued at half the price of the existing 
Catholic weeklies, — threepence ; and, as money was literally 
lavished on its production and dissemination, it went broad- 



"TEE BRASS BAND." 217 

cast through the land. It pandered to the fiercest bigotry. 
Its " catholicity" was of that bellicose and extravagant char- 
acter which was deemed best calculated at a time of such 
wide-spread religious animosities to delight and excite the 
masses. It swept the island. It penetrated into hamlets and 
homes where the Nation or the Tablet had never been seen. 
The editor, a gentleman of great ability, contrived to make 
his readers believe that the Pope and John Sadleir were the 
two great authorities of the Catholic Church : one was its 
infallible head, the other its invincible defender. But those 
bad Catholics, Duffy and Lucas, were thwarting the noble 
efforts of Mr. Sadleir and his devoted colleagues to serve the 
Church ; as for Gray, of the Freeman, he was a heretic, and 
nothing but evil could emanate from him. The newspaper 
move of the banker-politician, however, was a little over- 
reaching. It set a great many persons a thinking, and 
alarmed not a few. As for the Nation and Tablet, they bore 
the shock of attack bravely in spirit, but neither proprietor 
had a bank at his back, and both journals were almost fatally 
crippled in the unequal struggle. 

In the spring of 1852 — on the 2d of April — the Most 
Eev. Dr. Cullen, for a short time previously Archbishop of 
Armagh, was, by the all but unanimous vote of the clergy, 
nominated for the archbishopric of Dublin. The nomination 
was cordially approved at Koine, and there entered on his 
new sphere of duties a man who has ever since played an im- 
portant part in Irish affairs. He had spent the greater part 
of his clerical life in Italy, and for many years had been 
Rector of the Irish College in Eome. He early gained the 
special confidence and favor of Cardinal Barnabo, Prefect of 
the Propaganda, and was very warmly esteemed by Pio Nono 
himself. His manhood was largely passed, his principles 
were formed, in an atmosphere quite unlike that of Ireland. 
In Italy popular politics and national aspirations were made 
synonymous with principles and designs very naturally ab- 
horrent to him. All the bent of his mind was with authority, 
10 



218 NEW IRELAND. 

and against resistance to the constituted powers. He had 
seen the evil work which revolutionism had wrought else- 
where, and there was but the one safe road, he thought, for ■ 
him to take, — namely, to beware of all who inclined to tumult, 
violence, or sedition, and to side with those who put the in- 
terests of the Catholic religion before and beyond every other. 
There never entered upon the duties of such an important 
position as his a man more single-minded, more devoid of 
personal ambition or thought of self, more wholly wrapped 
in the one great purpose of advancing the interests of the 
Church. He was a stern disciplinarian, and it soon became 
evident that he had been chosen at Eome for a great and far- 
reaching purpose of disciplinary transformation in Irish Cath- 
olic affairs. Self-denying himself, he expected self-denial 
from all who served the altar ; obedient, full of reverence for 
authority, he considered obedience the first duty of a cleric. 
He might have been one of the early Fathers, transferred 
from the fifth to the nineteenth century. His cold exterior, 
his passionless manner, his severe ideas of authority and dis- 
cipline, did not fit well the Irish character, customs, and habits. 
He was more Eoman than Irish, and his design of bringing 
the Irish Church into stricter conformity to the Eoman model 
necessarily invaded many old feelings and incurred for him 
not a few conflicts among the Irish clergy. "A gloomy 
fanatic," " a narrow-minded churchman," the ultra- Protes- 
tant journals early declared him to be ; and even his own 
people, owing to the stern gravity of his manner and the aus- 
terity of his piety, regarded him more with respectful awe than 
warm affection. Yet in all this only one side of his charac- 
ter was read, and justice was not done his inner nature, 
which was kindly, and often generous. He could unbend 
betimes, and few could exhibit a readier appreciation for 
genuine wit or humor.* Yet a certain air of reserve aud 

*Many stories circulate in Dublin, some of questionable authenticity, 
as to his adventures in those early reforming: days. He resided for some 
time with the parochial clergy in the presbytery attached to the pro- 






" THE BRASS BAND." 219 

monasticism always surrounded him ; and one could see that 
he looked out on all the world from the stand-point of a 
churchman. 

Dr. Cullen almost inevitably gravitated toward the Sad- 
leir party as the special champions of the Church, and away 
from those who looked to such a dangerous paper as the Na- 
tion for guidance. He knew what ' * Young Italy " meant ; and 
"Young Ireland" he believed to be an imitation of the 
Italian party. Nor was he without grounds for such an im- 
pression. The writers in the Nation at one time warmly 
wrote up Mazzini and his co-laborers of the Carbonari, — a 
position, however, soon after publicly and emphatically 
abandoned by Mr. Duffy and repudiated by his successors. 
Still, it was not difficult for Mr. Sadleir's ecclesiastical 
friends to persuade the new archbishop that the men who 

cathedral in Marlborough Street. He soon established a rule that every 
one not on sick- visitation duty should be within-doors by ten o'clock at 
night. The ten-o'clock rule was by degrees a little infringed, whenever 
the curates were spending, as was their wont, an evening with some 
friendly family in the neighborhood. The archbishop imagined he oc- 
casionally heard footsteps creeping cautiously up-stairs long after " ten 
o'clock," and one evening, to the consternation of the reverend father 
whose turn it was to lock up, he announced his intention of perform- 
ing this duty himself. "Go up to bed, Father John," said he, in 
tones of sympathy : " you look a little fatigued. I'll wait for whoever 
is out." In vain Father John declared he was not tired ; in fact, he 
felt quite fresh, so to speak, and waiting up a little would do him all 
the good in the world. The archbishop would have his way ; and 
Father John went off to his room muttering of the catastrophe that 
awaited two of his friends who were sure not to be in before eleven. It 
was past this hour when they tapped softly at the big door, which was 
cautiously opened from within. One of them, putting in his head, in- 
quired in a whisper, " Is Paul in bed ?" " No," said the archbishop 
in a similar whisper, " he's here." Laughing heartily at their confu- 
sion, he let them in, locked the door, and, wishing them good-night, 
told them to go to bed. To their amazement, the archbishop next 
morning acted as if the incident had never occurred ; and when at 
length the story got about, none enjoyed it more mirthfully than he 
did. 



220 NEW IRELAND. 

preferred a Tenant League to a Catholic Defense Associa- 
tion, and who advocated a union of Protestants and Catholics 
in public affairs, were the heterodox party ; while Messrs. 
Sadleir and Keogh were the friends of order and the defend- 
ers of religion. In the events which were now at hand, 
this attitude of the Catholic archbishop of Dublin was of 
decisive importance. 

Parliament was dissolved on the 1st of July, and the efforts 
of the past six months culminated on the hustings. There 
were four parties engaged in the combat : the Tories, — who 
fought "solid," as they always do; the Whigs ; the Tenant 
Leaguers ; and the Catholic Defenders. In several places 
the latter two came into open conflict ; and generally it was 
evident that the Whigs, the Catholic Defense people, and the 
Brigade men were one and the same party. Nevertheless, 
when the lists were closed, it was found that the Leaguers 
had virtually carried the island. No Catholic Defense Whig 
was able to secure his return without taking the Tenant- 
Eight pledge ; while in nearly every place the League candi- 
dates triumphed. Their only important defeat was in Mona- 
ghan, where Dr. Gray was narrowly beaten. Frederick 
Lucas was returned for Meath, Gavan Duffy for New Ross, 
John Francis Maguire for Dungarvan, and, above all in im- 
portance, George Henry Moore, a member of the dissolved 
Parliament, already marked out as a master of men in the 
popular ranks, was again elected for Mayo. On the other 
hand, Mr. Sadleir and his three cousins, Frank and Vincent 
Scully and Robert Keatinge, were re-elected ; so was Mr. 
Keogh ; and Mr. Sadleir' s brother James came in for Tip- 
perary ; all finding it requisite to hoist the Tenant-Right 
colors beside the misused papal banner which they waved in 
the people's eyes. It was in the course of this campaign that 
Mr. Keogh, addressing a mob in Westmeath, in the interest 
of his friend Captain Magan, delivered a speech containing 
at least one suggestion which listening Ribbonmen were not 
likely to forget. "Boys," said he, "the days are now long 



" THE BRASS BAND." 221 

and the nights are short. In winter the days will be short 
and the nights will be long ; and then let every one remem- 
ber who voted for Sir Eichard Levinge. " * 

But, though Mr. Keogh was the man who figured most 
before the public, the unseen Von Moltke of the whole 
scheme was John Sadleir. Already he saw victory at hand. 
The result of the general elections gave a narrow majority 
to the Liberal party. The Tories could not hold office. 
The Eussell Whigs, without the Irish vote, were equally 
powerless. A coalition ministry — embracing the Peelite 
Conservatives and anti-Ecclesiastical Titles Bill Liberals — 
was the only possible administration. Already in imagina- 
tion the banker-politician grasped a coronet as the price of 
the Irish Brigade ! 

In Ireland the joy of the people over the return of so large 
an array of Tenant- Eight members was unbounded. It was 
for Gavan Duffy, especially, a short-lived triumph over his 
assailants of the revolutionary school. A faithful and inde- 
pendent band of representatives, he declared, would be worth 
more to Ireland in her existing condition than armies in the 
tented field. It did seem as if the Irish people had settled 
down at last to the design of fighting out their political 
issues with the weapons of the franchise and the forces of 
public opinion. 

On Wednesday, 8th of September, 1852, a general confer- 
ence of Irish members of Parliament favorable to tenant- 
right, convened by the League, was held in Dublin. Every 
Liberal member sitting for an Irish seat, with one or two 
exceptions, was present ; forty in all. The following resolu- 
tion as the basis of their future parliamentary policy 
and action was adopted with but one f dissentient voice : 

* Mr. Keogh subsequently declared he had no recollection whatever 
of this ; and a special friend of his was adduced who " did not hear it ; " 
but several affidavits or declarations were quoted by Lord Eglintoun 
from persons who were present and heard the words. 

f Mr. Burke Roche, afterward Lord Fennoy. 



222 NEW IRELAND. 

" Eesolved, That in the opinion of this conference it is essential to 
the proper management of this cause that the members of Parliament 
who have been returned on tenant-right principles should hold them- 
selves perfectly independent of, and in opposition to, all Governments 
which do not make it part of their policy, and a Cabinet question, to 
give to the tenantry of Ireland a measure embodying the principles of 
Mr. Sharman Crawford's bill." 

On the 4th of November, 1852, the new Parliament 
opened. At 4 a.m., Friday, 17th of December, the Derby 
Government was defeated in the Commons by a majority of 
nineteen. On the 20th ministers resigned, and Lord Aber- 
deen was called upon to form a Cabinet. 

A shout went up from Ireland. A thrill of the wildest 
excitement shook the island from the center to the sea. 
Now joy and triumph, now torturing doubt, now the very 
agony of suspense, prevailed. What would the Irish party 
do ? Here was the crisis which was to shame their oaths or 
prove them true. No Liberal or composite administration 
was possible without them, and their demand was one no 
minister had ever denied to be just. What would the Irish 
members do ? The fate of the new ministry, the fate of 
Ireland, was in their hands. 

As terrible deeds are said to be sometimes preceded by a 
mysterious apprehension, so in the last week of that old year 
a vague gloom chilled every heart. The news from London 
was panted for, hour by hour. At length the blow fell. 
Tidings of treason and disaster came. The Brigade was 
sold to Lord Aberdeen ! John Sadleir was Lord of the 
Treasury ! William Keogh was Irish Solicitor-General ! 
Edmond O'Flaherty was Commissioner of Income-Tax ! 
And so on. 

The English people, fortunately accustomed for centuries 
to exercise the functions of political life, may well be unable 
to comprehend the paralysis which followed this blow in Ire- 
land. The merchant of many ships may bear with composure 
the wreck of one. But here was an argosy freighted with the 



" THE BRASS BAND." 223 

last and most precious hopes of a people already on the verge 
of ruin and despair, scuttled before their eyes by the men who 
had called on the Most High God to witness their fidelity. 
The Irish tenantry had played their last stake, and lost. A 
despairing stupor like to that of the famine- time shrouded the 
land. Notices to quit fell " like snow-flakes " all over the 
counties where the hapless farmers had " refused the land- 
lord " and voted for a Brigadier. But the banker-politician 
had won. His accustomed success had attended him. He 
was not as yet a peer ; but he was a Treasury Lord. From 
their seat on the Treasury bench, he and his comrade, "the 
Solicitor-General," could smile calmly at the accusing coun- 
tenances of Duffy and Moore and Lucas. The New Year's 
chimes rang in the triumph of John Sadleir's daring ambi- 
tion. Did no dismal minor tone, like mournful funeral 
knell, presage the sequel that was now so near at hand ? 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE SUICIDE BANKER. 

Side by side with the political movements and events that 
landed Mr. Sadleir on the Treasury bench, financial schemes 
of the most ambitious character had occupied his mind. He 
early noted how fortunes might be made out of the ruin of 
Irish landed proprietors in the Encumbered Estates Court. 
He got up a "Land Company" to purchase the properties 
just then being sold at from seven to thirteen years' rental, 
with a view to reselling them subsequently at the advance 
which he knew would take place. His connection with the 
Tipperary Bank brought him into association with the mag- 
nates of Lombard Street ; and ere long he was chairman of 
the London and County Joint-Stock Bank. Higher, still 
higher, grew his aims, bolder and more daring his schemes 
and speculations. He was in Italian, American, and Spanish 
railways. He was deep in iron ; and at one time, it is said, 
he owned every cargo of sugar in port or at sea between Eng- 
land and the Indies. 

Amidst the hoarse roar of denunciation which hailed the 
desertion of the Brigade to Lord Aberdeen's camp, there came 
the bold assurances of the Weekly Telegraph that all was 
right. Nay, virtuous indignation was manifested at the in- 
justice of condemning those gentlemen before their explana- 
tion had been heard. They were in no hurry to offer any ; 
but substantially their story was this : " Lord Aberdeen had 
not repealed the Titles Act, nor undertaken to do so ; but he 
is the Catholic's friend. He fought against the ' No Popery ' 
penal legislators ; he is on terms of respect and regard with 

224 



THE SUICIDE BANKER. 225 

our bishops. He has not passed a tenant-right bill, nor un- 
dertaken to do so ; but he wishes the cause well, and will 
probably deal with the question. To oppose such a man we 
should act side by side with our deadly enemies, the Tories. 
His accession to power is the virtual defeat of Lord John 
Russell, who passed the Titles Bill, and of Lord Derby, who 
assisted it." 

The Tenant League was rent in twain by the Sadleir de- 
fection. Not merely the League, the country at large, was 
split into fiercely-hostile parties, one making the heavens 
resound with execrations of the forsworn Brigadiers, the 
other as stormily defending them. 

At this point of Irish political history the political influ- 
ence and authority of the Catholic bishops received a shock 
which has considerably influenced Irish affairs down to the 
present day. 

Mr. Sadleir and Mr. Keogh had of course to present them- 
selves for re-election in their boroughs of Carlow and Athlone. 
The Leaguers flung themselves with energy into the work of 
defeating them. In both places it was found that the Catholic 
prelates and clergy supported the Brigade leaders. This 
news created consternation. A deputation, consisting of 
Frederick Lucas, M.P., George H. Moore, M.P., Eev. T. 
O'Shea, C.C., and Rev. Dr. Kearney, P.P., on the part of 
the Tenant League, proceeded to Carlow to oppose Mr. 
Sadleir. The local clergy denounced them as intruders, and 
they had to quit the town. It was still worse at Athlone, 
where every one was overjoyed at Mr. Keogh 's good fortune. 
Stunned, alarmed at the probable effects of this approval of 
a disregard for public obligations, the League leaders ap- 
pealed to the Catholic bishops and clergy of Ireland to speak 
out promptly and say was it conducive to public morality 
that pledges so solemnly and explicitly made to the people 
should be violated on the first opportunity with the sanction 
of Catholic ecclesiastics. Prom the Most Rev. Dr. MacHale, 
Archbishop of Tuam, came a ready and emphatic response. 
10* 



226 NEW IRELAND. 

Standing as he did at the head of the Irish episcopacy in 
political weight and influence, it was not unnaturally ex- 
pected that a pronouncement from "the Lion of the Fold 
of Judah," as O'Connell had designated him, would have 
been accepted as decisive. No Catholic prelate in Ireland 
had filled so large a place as he in Irish affairs for more than 
a quarter of a century ; none at all approached him in popu- 
larity. He had been fondly looked up to by the Irish Cath- 
olic millions as an episcopal O'Connell, — a guide who was 
" always right," a champion whom nothing could dismay. 
He addressed a public letter to Mr. G. H. Moore, M.P., on 
the question of the day, "as a clear case of conscience, 
which, when stripped of all other relations of policy, or 
expediency or private interest, or prophecies of increased 
good, or probabilities of qualified evil, with which it is 
sought to obscure and confound it, is too clear for debate or 
conflicting decisions." Then he went on to say, — 

"On the strict and religious obligation of fidelity to such covenants 
there can be no controversy, — an obligation the more sacred and bind- 
ing in proportion to the numbers committed to such engagement, and 
to the magnitude and sacredness of the interests which they involve. 
Dissolve the binding power of such contracts, and you loosen the 
firmest bonds by which society is kept together." 

The Catholic bishops of Meath and Killala expressed 
themselves to a like effect. But at the points of critical im- 
portance, in the boroughs where the rejection of the Brigade 
leaders might have had a telling effect on the controversy, 
it happened, fortunately for them, that the local bishops in- 
dorsed their course. This conflict between ecclesiastical 
authorities on a grave question of public morality greatly 
scandalized the people. Every one looked for a declaration 
from the new Archbishop of Dublin, the Papal Legate. 
None came. Soon his silence received a dark construction. 
His uncle, the Eev. James Maher, P.P., was one of Mr. Sad- 
lier's strongest supporters in Carlow ; and it became manifest 



THE SUICIDE BANKER. 227 

that Dr. Cullen's influence, in Ireland and at Rome, was 
certain to be given, negatively or positively, on the side of 
Lord Aberdeen. This was partly his own judgment on 
things as they presented themselves to his view. But there 
was a whisper at the time of rather curious negotiations 
privately pushed between London, Vienna, and Rome, as to 
the claims of the new Premier on "the Catholic vote" in 
the House of Commons ; and these stories, rightly or wrongly, 
were connected with the attitude which Dr. Cullen assumed 
in the subsequent events. It seemed for a moment as if 
almost a schism would ensue in the Irish Catholic Church 
over the issue thus precipitated. An open war raged be- 
tween the sections of the clergy and people who ranged 
themselves under the banners of Dr. MacHale and Dr. Cul- 
len respectively. The latter maintained a severe silence, hut 
he might as well have openly espoused the cause of Mr. 
Sadleir and Mr. Keogh ; for the Tablet and Nation treated 
him as the really formidable protector of those gentlemen. 
No more violent, no more painful, internecine conflict 
agitated Irish politics in the present century than that 
which arose out of this clerical and episcopal condonation 
and reprobation of the Keogh-Sadleir defection from the 
Tenant League. 

Mr. Sadleir was opposed in Carlow by a Tory, Mr. Alex- 
ander. The Freeman, the Nation, and the Tablet exhorted 
the people to vote for Alexander, all Tory as he was, rather 
than for the new Lord of the Treasury. The Weekly Tele- 
graph and the Evening Post cried out in horror against this 
unholy union of Orange Tories and renegade Catholics in 
opposition to the protege of the bishop, the favorite of the 
priests, the champion of the Pope, the bosom friend of Lord 
Aberdeen. After a severe contest, Mr. Sadleir was rejected 
by an adverse majority of six votes. In Athlone, however, 
Mr. Keogh was not only triumphant, but the Catholic bishop, 
Dr. Browne, ostentatiously identified himself with the lauda- 
ble advancement of so good a son of the Church. Soon 



228 NEW IRELAND. 

after a vacancy was found for the Lord of the Treasury in 
Sligo, where by shameless bribery and terrorism he headed 
the poll. A parliamentary committee said so it had been ; 
but as Mr. Sadleir was held to have no personal knowledge 
of those crimes, his seat was secure. 

In Ireland, centuries of a cruel penal code had kept Cath- 
olics from every post of prominence or distinction in the 
public administration. The Emancipation Act had, indeed, 
declared them no longer ineligible for such offices by reason 
of religious faith ; but (as Mr. Peel at the time pointed out 
to some unnecessarily alarmed Protestants) declaring men 
not disqualified was one thing, actually appointing them was 
another. From 1829 to 1849 the Emancipation Act was 
little more than an abstract declaration, for any substantial 
change that the people could see in the old regime. " Cath- 
olic appointments " came to be regarded as the great test of 
Government liberality. The placing of Catholics in impor- 
tant public offices, especially as judges on the bench, was 
looked upon as the practical application of the Emancipa- 
tion Act ; and the ministry who should make the act a 
reality would be ranked very nearly as highly as those who 
had enacted it as a theory. In Dublin, at Vienna, and at 
Rome, Lord Aberdeen, through able and astute Catholic in- 
termediaries, pledged himself to this view ; and unquestion- 
ably he meant it. What greater proof, it was asked, could 
he give of his feelings and intentions on this point than the 
fact of singling out for high positions under his administra- 
tion the most prominent and demonstrative Irish opponents 
of the Titles Bill, — the men whose ultra-Catholicism had 
rendered them most obnoxious to English Protestant prej- 
udices ? 

This aspect of the transaction unquestionably impressed 
many of the Irish bishops irresistibly. And they persuaded 
themselves that, even on the tenant question, Lord Aber- 
deen's dispositions were likely to go beyond anything other- 
wise practicable. Moreover, the new political idea or rule 



THE SUICIDE BANKER. 229 

of "independence of and opposition to all administrations" 
was too great and too sudden a change from the traditional 
alliance of the Irish popular party with the English Liberals. 
The Irish members had indeed " resolved " it at the confer- 
ence, but not more than a third of their number really- 
meant it. The wrench was too severe. On its very first 
application the new rule broke down. The popular mind 
had not been educated yet beyond the one point of always 
opposing the Tories, "who never gave Catholics anything." 

The League leaders, especially the League journalists' 
Duffy, Gray, and Lucas, denounced the idea that for the 
sake of " Catholics in office " the Land question, which in- 
volved interests of Protestants and Catholics alike, should 
be sacrificed. They held up to public odium and eternal 
reprobation every man — archbishop, bishop, priest, or lay- 
man — who directly or indirectly approved or sustained the 
Brigade treason. The " Sadleirite prelates," as they were 
offensively termed, struck back with hard and sharp blows. 
Too-demonstrative priests were removed to remote parishes, 
and even called upon to "abstain from political strife." 
Eventually the leading provincial priests (chiefly from the 
diocese of Meath), accustomed to attend the meetings in 
Dublin whereat "the Brigade traitors" and their episcopal 
and other supporters were denounced, found themselves pro- 
hibited, by an order from Borne, from further participation 
in such demonstrations. 

All this was set down mainly to Dr. Cullen's account. 
His voice was known to be all-powerful at the Propaganda. 
The parochial clergy took alarm. He was suspected of a 
deep design to overthrow the considerable independence 
which hitherto they enjoyed. It was said that " provincial 
statutes " had been forwarded by him for approval to Kome, 
whereby the platform utterances of a priest should be con- 
fined to his own parish. Hitherto in the selection of Cath- 
olic prelates the custom had been for the diocesan parish 
priests to select by ballot three persons, — digitus, dignior, 



230 NEW IRELAND. 

and dignissimus, according as they stood on the vote, — 
whose names were forwarded to Eome, and one of whom 
almost invariably received the appointment. Dr. Cullen 
was credited with the purpose of abolishing this ancient 
custom, and of recommending the Holy See to assert its un- 
questionable right of nomination independently of the parish 
priests.* A deep discontent spread throughout the island. 
At length it was decided to appeal to Eome against his pro- 
ceedings. 

This was a very serious, an almost unprecedented, course 
for Irish Catholics to take. An appeal to Eome against the 
Papal Legate ! To complain of him that he was curbing 
with strong hand the political action of clerics ! This was 
unlikely to be deemed an offense by the Vatican authorities. 
The intricacies of Irish politics, the tangled skein of the 
League-Brigade dispute, could hardly be unraveled and com- 
prehended by such a tribunal. Nevertheless, well knowing 
it was one that never yet denied justice to the weakest or the 
humblest, even against the lofty and the strong, the aggrieved 
priests of the tenant-right movement drew up a formal Me- 
morial or Complaint for presentation to the Pope. 

But who would sign it ? Who would present it ? Who 
was in a position to prosecute it, — to proceed to the Eternal 
City and there attend and await the myriad tedious stages 
and processes of investigation ? After a good deal of time 
had been consumed by reason of these difficulties and obstruc- 
tions, the Memorial was at length duly signed, and Mr. Lucas, 
M.P., editor of the Tablet, was chosen to proceed to Eome as 
the representative of the complainants before the Apostolic 
Chair. He went on a forlorn hope. He was kindly received. 
The grave impeachment which he brought was decreed a 
careful consideration. But the whole proceeding was a 

* This change has, as a matter of fact, been ever since in a great 
measure applied. In several instances the nominations of the parochial 
clergy have been passed over, and the bishops directly appointed from 
Rome. 



THE SUICIDE BANKER. 231 

mournful mistake. Months went by. Weary waiting in 
Eome and despairing news from Ireland told heavily on the 
spirits and on the health of the loyal-hearted Lucas. He had 
to return to England, leaving the Memorial to its fate. When 
we heard that he lay ill at Staines, those who knew the man 
intimately and had marked the consuming anxiety with 
which he had fought out this quarrel felt that a great and 
noble heart had been broken in an unequal combat. The 
news from Ireland was simply this, that the Irish parlia- 
mentary party was a wreck, that the League was fatally shat- 
tered, the country utterly disheartened and despairing. The 
great movement around which the hopes of a nation had 
centered was irretrievably ruined. The League organization, 
indeed, refusing to surrender, made gallant effort for some 
few years further, and a small band of the Irish members, 
"among the faithless faithful found," — Gavan Duffy, G. H. 
Moore, P. M'Mahon, J. A. Blake, J. F. Maguire, Tristram 
Kennedy, John Brady, and others, — fought bravely on. But 
it was more to make a stand for honor than with hope of 
victory. Mr. Sadleir had carried the day. 

No sooner did Gavan Duffy realize that the Memorial to 
Eome was likely to come to naught than he determined to 
bid Ireland farewell. No man had staked more largely on 
the success of this movement, none lost more heavily by its 
overthrow. He, at all events, had cleared his soul ; he had 
done his part. He had given to the service of Ireland the 
best years of his life, without avail. He would now call 
upon younger men, who might hope where he could not, to 
take his place, if they would ; while, for himself, he sought 
a new home, and began life once more, at five-and-thirty, in 
far Australia. 

In 1854 there passed through Parliament the most states- 
manlike scheme of British legislation for half a century, — 
the act whereby the Australian colonies were granted Home 
Rule. Mr. Duffy took a deep interest and an active part in 
all the discussions on this important measure. He added to 



232 NEW IRELAND. 

it some of its wisest provisions, and saved it from faults that 
might have seriously marred its success. Few imagined at 
the time that he was destined to be, ere long, engaged in 
practically applying that scheme as First Minister of the 
Crown in free, self-governed Victoria ! 

For a moment it seemed as if he had heen too precipitate in 
meditating self-expatriation. Toward the close of 1853 an om- 
inous event occurred. The first faint sign of a fissure appeared 
in the edifice of Mr. Sadleir's political and financial fortunes ! 

In his unsuccessful attempt at re-election for Carlow bor- 
ough he had used unscrupulously and illegally the resources 
of his bank (which had a branch in the town), and the mech- 
anism of bills, bonds, debts, executions, and seizures, to in- 
fluence the result. He usually took care to have a sufficient 
number of the electors in his power through some such 
means. On the morning of the election an unfortunate man 
named Dowling, suspected of an intention to vote for Mr. 
Alexander, was unlawfully arrested on some judgment which 
Mr. Sadleir produced against him. Dowling brought an 
action for false imprisonment in the Court of Exchequer, 
Dublin, in November, 1853. The revelations in the case 
were damning against the Lord of the Treasury. He came 
into the witness-box, however, and, as it was well expressed, 
"denied everything, and disowned everybody." So bold 
and desperate was his evidence that the jury had no option 
but to find against Dowling or declare Mr. Sadleir a per- 
jurer. They disbelieved Mr. Sadleir, and gave Dowling a 
verdict ! The sensation created in Dublin at the time by 
this event was considerable ; hardly less serious was the ex- 
citement it caused in some of the political and financial circles 
of London. In a few weeks it became known that after such 
a verdict the lordship of the Treasury could not be retained. 
In January, 1854, Mr. Sadleir "resigned." 

Resigned ! The tide had turned with the banker-politician 
and, all unknown to the world, was now bearing him irresist- 
ibly to ruin. 



THE SUICIDE BANKER. 233 

In March a sinister rumor crept around that Mr. Sadleir, 
so far from being a millionaire, was at the moment in finan- 
cial difficulty. The story, however, was scoffed at, and re- 
ceived what seemed ample refutation in new proofs displayed 
of his vast financial resources. In June people began to in- 
quire in a cynical way, Where was Mr. Edmond O'Flaherty ? 
Mr. O'Flaherty was the Brigadier who had been made Com- 
missioner of Income-Tax ; a peculiarly intimate friend, con- 
fidant, and political manager of Messrs. Sadleir and Keogh ; 
another of those "good Catholics" whom it was so beneficial 
to Ireland to have placed in high office. Where was he, in- 
deed ? The authorities at Scotland Yard grew anxious on the 
point, when it was discovered one morning that the " Com- 
missioner of Income-Tax " had fled to parts unknown, leaving 
bills in circulation, some of them with forged signatures, 
amounting in the aggregate to about fifteen thousand pounds. 

Men stared in wonder, and asked, " Who next ? " Mr. 
O'Flaherty's relations with other of the Brigade politicians 
suggested painful uncertainty as to further disclosures. He 
was a special protege of the Duke of Newcastle, with whom 
he was on visiting terms. There is little doubt that he was 
the negotiator of the recent political transaction between his 
friends and the Aberdeen Government. And now he was a 
fugitive from justice ! 

Parliament opened on the 23d of January, 1855. Mr. 
Eoebuck at once gave notice that he would move for a com- 
mittee to inquire into the condition of the army before Se- 
bastopol, and into the conduct of the Government depart- 
ments responsible. On hearing this notice read, Lord John 
Eussell withdrew from the ministry, and " upset the coach 
again." Six days subsequently, the 29th of January, the 
coalition administration was defeated on Mr. Roebuck's mo- 
tion by the large majority of one hundred and fifty-seven, in 
a house of four hundred and fifty-three. On the 1st of Feb- 
ruary Lord Aberdeen resigned. Between the 2d and 5th 
Lord John Russell and Lord Derby had each in turn tried 



234= NEW IRELAND. 

and failed to form a Cabinet. On the 6 th Lord Palmerston 
became Premier, with a reconstruction of the late adminis- 
tration. Mr. Keogh had been Irish Solicitor-General ; Mr. 
Brewster being Attorney- General. Of course it was con- 
cluded that their resignation of office would follow upon that 
of the Government. Mr. Brewster did so resign, under the 
belief that his junior colleague was doing the same ; but he 
found that his act had merely made a vacancy for Mr. 
Keogh, who quietly held on and stepped into the Attorney- 
Generalship. There was a story current in the Four Courts 
at the time that Mr. Keogh had cleverly " sold " Mr. Brew- 
ster in the proceeding, — had deliberately misled and out- 
witted him ; but I never believed it, as the latter gentleman 
would, in any event, have acted on the strict lines of usage, 
and resigned with his chief. 

On the 4th of August, 1855, Mr. Gavan Duffy announced, 
by a farewell address in the Nation, that he was about to 
throw up his seat in Parliament and leave Ireland forever ! 
The news chilled the country like a signal of despair. Mr. 
Duffy's first idea, I believe, was that the whole staff of the 
Nation should accompany him, and that they should re-es- 
tablish that journal under happier auspices in the Southern 
hemisphere. But this project was abandoned. He found a 
few hearts who would hope and strive on at home, dismal as 
was the outlook then, in the belief that some day Ireland 
would come to life and would arise once more. Mr. John 
Cashel Hoey, a long-time colleague and friend, who had 
served him with ability and fidelity, and whose brilliant 
gifts and dauntless courage had been amply tested in years 
of difficulty and struggle, stepped into Mr. Duffy's place as 
editor-in-chief ; I succeeded to the second position ; and Mr. 
M. Clery, a nobly honest and true-souled young Irishman, 
undertook the business management of the property. * Mr. 

* Mr. Hoey and Mr. Clery retired in 1857, from which date up to 
1876 I remained sole proprietor and responsible editor. 



TEE SUICIDE BANKER. 235 

Duffy's valedictory address described in moving language the 
events of the past six years, and the present circumstances 
of Ireland. A change might come, he said, — and that it 
might he fondly prayed ; but unless and until the existing 
conditions altered "there was no more hope for Ireland than 
for a corpse on the dissecting-table." Gloomy news came 
crowding in. On the 22d of October Frederick Lucas died 
at Staines. On the 6th of November Gavan Duffy sailed for 
Australia. It seemed the extinction of national politics in 
Ireland. 

I have said that in 1854 the tide had turned with John 
Sadleir. Alas ! throughout that year, and all the weary 
days of 1855, unknown to even his nearest and dearest 
friends, he was suffering tortures indescribable ! Some of 
his colossal speculations had turned out adversely ; and he 
had misappropriated the last shilling of the Tipperary Bank. 
Another venture, he thinks, may recoup all : it only leads 
to deeper ruin ! He must go on : he cannot turn back now. 
But where are funds to be reached for further wild endea- 
vors ? All calmly as ever he had trod the lobby of the 
House of Commons. No eye could detect on that impassive 
countenance of his that there was aught but the satisfaction 
of success within. His political associates joked with him 
over Gavan Duffy's "political funeral." They effusively 
felicitated him on the signal overthrow and final dispersion 
of his adversaries. " Ireland is now all your own, John," 
said one of them ; " you have conquered all along the line. 
You must be as happy as a king ! " He smiled his cold sad, 
smile, and said, Yes, to be sure he was. At home in Ireland, 
his own journal, and all the Liberal Government organs, 
were never tired of sounding his praise and proclaiming his 
triumph over the dead Lucas and the exiled Duffy. 

Nightly, after leaving the House of Commons, John Sad- 
leir sat up late in the private study of his town house, 11 
Glo'ster Terrace, Hyde Park. Morning often dawned and 
found him at his lonely labors. What were they ? 



236 NEW IRELAND. 

In the stillness and secresy of those midnight hours Johi 
Sadleir, the man of success, the millionaire, the Lord of th€ 
Treasury that had been, the peer of the realm that was to 
be, was occupied in forging deeds, conveyances, and bills for 
hundreds of thousands of pounds ! 

Still accumulating disaster overpowered even these re- 
sources of fraud. In the second week of February, 1856, 
some one of his numerous desperate financial expedients hap- 
pened to miscarry for a day, and the drafts of the Tipperary 
Bank were dishonored at Glyn's. The news came with a 
stunning shock on most people ; but quickly, next day, an 
announcement was issued that it was all a mistake, — the 
drafts presented anew had been duly met, and the mischance 
would not again befall. The alarm, however, had reached 
Ireland, and at several of the branches something akin to a 
run took place. If only a panic could be averted, and 
twenty or thirty thousand pounds obtained, all might be 
saved. So, at least, declared Mr. James Sadleir, M.P., who 
was in charge of affairs in Ireland, telegraphing to John on 
the morning of Saturday, 16th of February.* Twenty or 
thirty thousand pounds. Once it was a bagatelle in his esti- 
mation ; but now ! He had lain on no bed the night before. 
All haggard and excited this message found him. James 
little knew all when he thus lightly spoke of twenty or thirty 
thousand pounds, by way of reassuring his hapless brother. 
The wretched man strove in vain to devise some yet unex- 
hausted means of raising this money. He had already gone 
so far, so perilously far, that there was no possible quarter 
in which earnest application might not lead to suspicions 
that would invoke discovery ! He drove into the city. Mr. 
Wilkinson, of Nicholas Lane, telling the sad affair subse- 

* " Feb. 16, 1856.— Telegram from James Sadleir, 30 Merion Square 
South, Dublin, to John Sadleir, Esq., M.P., Eeform Club, London : All 
right at all the branches ; only a few small things refused there. If 
from twenty to thirty thousand over here on Monday morning all is 
safe." 



THE SUICIDE BANKER. 237 

quently, says, " He came to me on the morning of Satur- 
day, and suggested that I could raise some money with the 
view of assisting the Tipperary Bank. He showed me some 
telegraphic messages he had received from Ireland on the 
subject of their wants. He had several schemes by which 
he thought I could assist him in raising money ; but after 
going into them I told him I could not help him, the 
schemes being such as I could not recommend or adopt. He 
then became very excited, put his hand to his head, and 
said, ' Good God ! if the Tipperary Bank should fail the 
fault will be entirely mine, and I shall have been the ruin of 
hundreds and thousands.' He walked about the office in a 
very excited state, and urged me to try and help him, be- 
cause, he said, he could not live to see the pain and ruin 
inflicted on others by the cessation of the bank. The inter- 
view ended in this, that I was unable to assist him in his 
plans to raise money." 

In this case, what he feared in so many others exactly oc- 
curred. Mr. Wilkinson had previously advanced him large 
sums, for which, to be sure, Mr. Sadleir, on request, had 
given security, — one of those numerous title-deeds which he 
had fabricated during the past year. Mr. Wilkinson that 
same Saturday night dispatched his partner, Mr. Stevens, 
to Dublin, to look after the matter. On Monday this gen- 
tleman found that the deed was a forgery. But by that 
time a still more dreadful tale was known to all the world. 

There is reason to think John Sadleir knew of Mr. 
Stevens's start for Dublin before ten o'clock that evening. 
His intimate friend, Mr. Norris, solicitor, of Bedford Eow, 
called on him about half-past ten, and remained half an 
hour. The fact was discussed between them that the Tip- 
perary Bank must stop payment on Monday morning. 

John Sadleir sat him down, all alone, in that study, and 
callous must be the heart that can contemplate him in that 
hour and not compassionate his agony. All was over : he 
must die. He was yet, indeed, in the prime and vigor of 



238 NEW IRELAND. 

manhood. "Considerably above the middle height," says 
one who knew him well, "his figure was youthful, but his 
face, — that was indeed remarkable. Strongly marked, sal- 
low, eyes and hair intensely black, and the lines of the 
mouth worn into deep channels." The busy schemes, the 
lofty ambitions, the daring speculations, were ended now. 
The poorest cottier on a Tipperary hill-side might look the 
morrow in the face and cling to life ; but for him, the en- 
vied man of thousands, the morning sun must rise in vain. 
He seized a pen, and devoted half an hour to letter-writing. 
Oh, that woeful correspondence of the despairing soul with 
those whom it loves, and is to lose forever ! Then he took 
a small silver tankard from the sideboard and put it in his 
breast-pocket, beside a small phial which he had purchased 
early in that fatal day. As he passed through the hall and 
took his hat from the stand, he told the butler not to wait 
up for him. He went out and closed the door behind him 
with a firm hand. The clocks were striking twelve : 'twas 
Sunday morning ; God's holy day had come. Ah, far away 
on the Suir side were an aged father and mother, with whom 
a child he often trod the path to early mass, when Sunday 
bells were music to his ear ! And now ! — oh, fatal lure of 
wealth ! oh, damned, mocking fiend ! — to this, to this it 
had come at last ! He dare not think of God, or friend, or 
home 

Next morning, on a little mound on Hampstead Heath, 
the passers-by noticed a gentleman stretched as if in sleep. 
A silver tankard had fallen from his hand and lay upon the 
ground. It smelt strongly of prussic acid. A crowd soon 
gathered ; the police arrived ; they lifted up the body, all 
stiff and stark. It was the corpse of John Sadleir, the 
banker. 

On Monday the news flashed through the kingdom. 
There was alarm in London ; there was wild panic in Ire- 
land. The Tipperary Bank closed its doors ; the country- 



THE SUICIDE BANKER. 239 

people flocked into the towns. They surrounded and at- 
tacked the branches : the poor victims imagined their money 
must be within, and they got crowbars, picks, and spades to 
force the walls and "dig it out." The scenes of mad de- 
spair which the streets of Thurles and Tipperary saw that 
day would melt a heart of adamant. Old men went about 
like maniacs, confused and hysterical ; widows knelt in the 
street and, aloud, asked God was it true they were beggared 
forever. Even the poor-law unions, which had kept their 
accounts in the bank, lost all, and had not a shilling to buy 
the paupers' dinner the day the branch doors closed. 

The letters which the unhappy suicide penned that Satur- 
day night reveal much of the terrible story so long hidden 
from the world. The following Avas addressed to his cousin, 
Kobert Keatinge : 

" 11 Glo'ster Terrace, 16 February, 1856. 
"Dear Robert, — To what infamy have I come step by step — heap- 
ing crime upon crime — and now I find myself the author of number- 
less crimes of a diabolical character and the cause of ruin and misery 
and disgrace to thousands — ay, to tens of thousands. Oh, how I feel 
for those on whom all this ruin must fall ! I could bear all punish- 
ment but I could never bear to witness the sufferings of those on 
whom I have brought such ruin. It must be better that I should not 
live. No one has been privy to my crimes — they sprung from my own 
cursed brain alone. I have swindled and deceived without the knowl- 
edge of any one. Stevens and Norris are both innocent and have no 
knowledge of the fabrication of deeds and forgeries by me and which 
I have sought to go on in the horrid hope of retrieving. It was a sad 
day for all when I came to London. I can give but little aid to unravel 
accounts and transactions. There are serious questions as to my inter- 
est in the Grand Junction and other undertakings. Much will be lost 
to the creditors if these cases are not fairly treated. The Grand Junc- 
tion, the East Kent, and the Swiss Eailways, the Rome line, the Coal 
Co. are all liable to be entirely lost now — so far as my assets are con- 
cerned. I authorize you to take possession of all my letters, papers, 
property, &c, &c, in this house and at Wilkinsons and 18 Cannon 
Street. Return my brother his letters to me and all other papers. 
The prayers of one so wicked could not avail or I would seek to pray 
for those I leave after me and who will have to suffer such agony and 



240 NEW IRELAND. 

all owing to my criminal acts. Oh that I never quitted Ireland ! Oh that 
I had resisted the first attempts to launch me into speculations. If I 
had had less talents of a worthless kind and more firmness I might have 
remained as I once was honest and truthful — and I would have lived 
to see my dear Father and Mother in their old age. I weep and weep 
now, but what can that avail ! 

"J. Sadleir. 
"Robert Keatinge, Esq., M.P., 
Shamroque Lodge, Claphani." 

Banks, railways, assurance associations, land companies, 
every undertaking with which he had been connected, were 
flung into dismay, and for months fresh revelations of fraud, 
forgery, and robbery came daily and hourly to view. By the 
month of April the total of such discoveries had reached one 
million two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. 

While the three kingdoms were ringing with this frightful 
story, and the career of the Sadleir party was being recalled 
and narrated like some tale of a band of mediaeval banditti, 
a piece of news almost as astounding burst on us all. Mr. 
Keogh was elevated to the bench, clothed with the ermine, 
as puisne judge of the Common Pleas ! More than twenty 
years have passed away, and those feelings still rankle in the 
Irish breast. Irishmen could sooner forgive a defeat in the 
field ; they could sooner forget the wounds of a penal code. 
In the days that were now close at hand, the agents of revo- 
lutionary conspiracy found no more irresistible argument in 
pushing their terrible propaganda among the people than a 
reference to this transaction, and to the story of "Sadleir's 
Brigade." 






CHAPTER XVI. 

THE AKBUTHNOT ABDUCTION". 

On Sunday, the 2d of July, 1854, I was standing with 
some friends outside the ivied gateway of Holy Cross Abbey, 
county Tipperary. We were examining a curiously sculp- 
tured stone of the sixteenth century, built into the wall close 
by the northern end of the bridge which here spans the Suir, 
when a cry or shout on the other side of the river, and the 
noise of a horse in rapid gallop attracted our attention. 
Looking quickly around, we had barely time to get out of the 
way when there dashed by us at furious speed a police orderly, 
his horse all necked with foam, and mud spattered to the top 
of his shako. What was it ? Not another " rising," surely ? 
" A landlord shot, as sure as we live," exclaimed one of our 
party ; and, standing where we did, on Tipperary soil, in the 
midst of a famous shooting-district, no guess could have been 
more natural under all the circumstances. After a while we 
turned into the abbey, and, having spent an hour amidst the 
ruined aisles of King Donald's church and the shattered 
tombs of prince and lord, we forgot for a moment the hurried 
horseman, and came away. It was only when we returned to 
Thurles, after a brisk walk of three miles, we had an expla- 
nation of the incident at the bridge. "Did you hear the 
news, sir ? — did you hear the news ? Carden of Barnane — 
the country is up in pursuit of him ; all the police are out, 
and the mounted men are giving the alarm, and " 

" But what has he done ? " 

"Done, sir! Didn't you hear? Miss Arbuthnot — the 
young English lady, a sister of Mrs. Gough, that he was mad 
11 241 



242 NEW IRELAND. 






in love with, they say — sure he tried to carry her off ; and 
there was a bloody battle between his men, all armed, and the 
people defending her, and he was beat ; but an orderly has 
Drought word to our sub-inspector that they say he was took 
an hour ago, on the road below at Farney." 

Could we credit our ears ? An abduction ! Had the 
worst days of the last century come back on us once more ? An 
abduction, and by Mr. Carden of Barnane, one of the mag- 
nates of the county, a great landlord, grand juror, magistrate, 
deputy-lieutenant ! Before nightfall the town was all excite- 
ment over the story, which was told in a hundred versions. 
True it was that an event destined to startle the kingdom 
from end to end had just befallen within a few miles of 
where we stood. "For years past," said the Times two days 
subsequently, "no event of any political cast has created 
greater excitement than the adventurous attempt of the lord 
of Bamane to possess himself, by means beyond the pale of 
the law, of a bride possessed of all the requisites, personal 
and pecuniary, which were but too frequently irresistible for 
the philosophy of the Celtic temperament." 

About three miles from Cloninel, the beautifully environed 
capital of Southern Tipperary, stands Rathronan House. The 
road to Cashel leads due north for two miles, when, at Rath- 
ronan Church, it turns sharply to the left and west. Here 
it skirts for a mile the southern boundary of Rathronan de- 
mesne, after which it turns again northward. On this road 
is the avenue-entrance to Rathronan House, the gate-lodge 
being half a mile from the little church already referred to. 
In 1854 Rathronan was the residence of Captain the Honor- 
able George Gough, eldest son of Field-Marshal Lord Gough, 
the hero of Sobraon. Captain Gough had married an English 
lady, daughter of Mr. George Arbuthnot, of Eklerslie, Surrey, 
and at this time two sisters of Mrs. Gough, Laura, the elder, 
and Eleanor, the younger, resided with her. The fame of 
these fair Saxons filled the county. They were young, hand- 
some, and accomplished. When I add that they were heir- 



THE ABBUTHNOT ABDUCTION. 243 

esses to considerable fortunes, it will be at once admitted they 
were fascinating and irresistible. So at least thought all the 
young gallants of the "upper ten" in Tipperary. Eleanor 
fairly turned the heads of several of them ; yet her heart was 
obdurate : she was impartially civil and cold to all. Among 
these suitors was "the lord of Barnane," Mr. John Carden.* 
He had met her at Marlfield, the charming residence of Mr. 
Bagwell, long time member for Clonmel, and soon the North 
Riding squire was the most desperately in love of all. He 
followed her everywhere. Wherever she appeared — at arch- 
ery meet or at flower-show, at concert, evening party, or 
county ball — there was he, like one under a spell, having 
eyes for nothing and nobody but her. Between him and 
Captain Gough there existed the friendly and social relations 
of one county gentleman with another constantly met in the 
hunting-field and the grand-jury room ; but the families were 
not intimate in their intercourse. At length Mr. Carden 
formally proposed for the hand of the English maiden. He 
was refused, — refused under circumstances that not alone 
wounded his feelings, but caused him to believe that he owed 
his repulse not so much to any aversion on the part of the 
young lady as to unfair opposition on the part of her family. 
Once this idea took possession of him, there was no displac- 
ing it. Trifles light as air were viewed as corroboration ; a 
fancied glance as she passed him in the street, a flourish of 
her whip as she drove by in the pony-phaeton, were em- 
braced as so many signals that she really loved him but was 
under restraint. The plain truth was, she cared not a jot for 
the lord of Barnane. Very likely she may have been for a 
while a little pleased with or vain of his attentions ; but she 
did all that a young girl could well do, without being pain- 
fully rude, to repress any closer advances once things became 
serious. 

* He was cousin of Sir John Carden, of the Priory, Templemore, and 
was called " Woodcock Carden," so often had he been fired at when 
at one period of his life he was carrying out extensive evictions. 



244 NEW IRELAND. 

The ladies of Eathronan House were in the habit of attend- 
ing divine service on "Wednesdays at Fethard, a town distant 
northward six or seven miles. On Wednesday, the 28th of i 
June, 1854, from one reason or another Miss Eleanor and I 
Mrs. Gough stayed at home, and the elder Miss Arbuthnot, , 
Laura, and a young lady friend, Miss Linden, were driven i 
to the church at Fethard, by a servant named Hoare. While 
he was engaged in stabling the horse during the time of 
service, Hoare was accosted by Mr. John Carden's confi- 
dential " man," Rainsberry, who was very inquisitive and 
asked quite a number of pumping questions about the young • 
ladies. He elicited from Hoare, at all events, the fact that 
Miss Eleanor was not of the party. Returning home the 
ladies encountered on the road, at a place called Market Hill, 
Mr. Carden, who was on horseback, and it was observed that 
drawn up close by was a carriage. ' Furthermore, Hoare 
noticed that soon after the Rathronan phaeton passed a car 
drove up, containing Rainsberry and four other men, who 
joined the attendants of the carriage in the by-way. These 
circumstances, however, seem to have aroused no particular 
suspicions at the time. 

Next day there was the Midsummer Flower-Show at 
Clonmel, the favored annual rendezvous of the county gentry, 
or rather of the county ladies. Mr. Carden was early on the 
ground. He sauntered through the marquees, and strolled 
along the stands ; but the bloom of June roses had no charm 
for him. His eyes sought only the flower of Rathronan. 
In the afternoon she appeared. He accosted her ; asked how 
her sister was. She bowed, answered that her sister was very 
well, and passed on. All effort to engage her in conversation 
was baffled. 

On the following Sunday, 2d of July, 1854, Mrs. Gough, 
Miss Arbuthnot, Miss Eleanor Arbuthnot, and Miss Linden 
attended divine worship at Rathronan, Captain Gough being 
all this time absent in Dublin. The party were driven to 
the church on an Irish " outside" car. As they entered the 



TEE ARBUTHNOT ABDUCTION 245 

church-yard they saw standing behind a tombstone, as if idly 
waiting the commencement of the service, Mr. Carden of 
Barnane. Considering the incident of Wednesday, the meet- 
ing at the flower-show, and, above all, the fact that Eathro- 
nan was not the church which ordinarily he would attend, 
they must have felt his presence to be only a new demonstra- 
tion of that "haunting" process of which they had by this 
time become painfully conscious. As a matter of fact, he 
attracted general notice, nearly every one understanding 
that he came to have a look at "Miss Eleanor." During de- 
votions he exhibited not a trace of nervousness, excitement, 
or anxiety. He withdrew at the close of the regular service ; 
but as this was Sacrament Sunday the Kathronan ladies 
waited to communicate, and consequently did not leave at 
the same time. 

The morning had been so fine that the ladies had left 
home, as I have mentioned, on an open vehicle ; but scarcely 
had they entered the church when heavy showers came on. 
The coachman, James Dwyer, quick in thought, drove back 
to Kathronan (distant three-quarters of a mile), put up the 
outside jaunting-car, and returned with what is called a 
" covered car " in its stead. This is a description of vehicle 
which is entered at the back, the passengers sitting on each 
side vis-a-vis within. Dwyer little dreamt how much was 
soon to turn on this change of "traps." 

There had meantime drawn up outside the Eathronan de- 
mesne gateway a carriage, to which were harnessed a dashing 
pair of thoroughbreds. Six strange men were observed loi- 
tering about close by ; and on the road outside the entrance 
to the church-yard a groom led two saddle-horses. When 
Mr. Carden quitted the church he mounted one of them, 
and rode up to where the carriage stood. He spoke a few 
hurried words, on which the coachman gripped his reins, 
and the six " guards," or attendants, at once closed in. Mr. 
Carden got off his horse, and earnestly examined the hous- 
ings of the two magnificent animals yoked to the carriage. 



246 NEW IRELAND. 

Every strap and buckle, band and trace, was minutely and 
carefully scrutinized and tested. The examination con- 
cluded, he again mounted and rode back toward the church. | 
He met Captain Gough's covered car returning with the la- 
dies. He at once wheeled round and closely followed it, his ■ 
horse's head being barely a few feet from the end of the vehi- • 
cle. Dwyer, the coachman, as he neared the gateway, saw 
the strange carriage and the attendants, and knew that be- 
hind was riding Mr. John Carden of Barnane, the importu- 
nate suitor of "the young mistress." Some thought that 
all was not right flashed like lightning through his mind. 
He had not time to work the problem out to any very clear 
conclusion ; but as he neared the gate, he, with a sort of in- 
stinctive alarm, shook the rein and cried to his horse. 
Before a touch of his whip could fall, the six men dashed 
forward, seized and stopped the car. Then first he rec- 
ognized in their leader Rainsberry, and divined what was 
up. He sprang from the driving-seat exclaiming, "Rains- 
berry, you villain, let go my horse ; you'll pay dear for 
this ! " A blow on the head from a skull-cracker tumbled 
Dwyer to the ground. Rainsberry shouted out, " Cut, cut ! 
Knives, knives ! " One of the band pulled from beneath his 
coach a large garden-knife, freshly sharpened, and with one 
stroke severed the reins of the Rathronan horse ; another and 
another, and the traces hung on the road. This was but the 
work of a few seconds: years of terror and agony they seemed 
to the screaming victims in the car. At the instant the 
vehicle was stopped, Mr. Carden jumped from his horse, 
rushed over, and grasped at Eleanor Arbuthnot. But the 
whole chapter of accidents was in her favor that day. She 
happened to be farthest in : he could touch her only by 
reaching across Miss Linden, who, sitting on the same seat, 
was next the door. Had the ladies been on the outside car 
which bore them to church in the morning, one pull from 
their assailant would have brought any of them to his feet. 
But, placed as they now were, they were considerably shel- 



THE ARBUTHNOT ABDUCTION. 247 

. tered from attack ; and before Eleanor could be reached the 
other three had to be pulled out and disposed of. All four 
showed fight in the most determined manner, fully realizing 
what was on foot. Mr. Oarden succeeded for a moment in 
gripping Eleanor. With desperate energy he pulled and 
strained to drag her out. Laura held her back, and Miss 
Linden, drawing her clenched fist with all the force she 
could command, struck the undefended face of the deputy- 
lieutenant a smashing blow. Blood spurted from his nose 
and streamed down his face, covering his shirt-front and vest. 
He loosed his hold and turned sharply on his lady assailant. 
In vain she shrieked and struggled : he tore her furiously 
from her hold, and flung her on the side of the road. Mrs. 
Gough, whose condition of health at the time made a scene 
like this almost certain death for her, sprang as best she 
could out of the car, and rushed through the avenue toward 
the house, screaming for help. A young peasant, named 
McGrath, was the first to arrive on the scene. He saw Cap- 
tain Gough's herd at some distance, and shouted to him 
to hurry, — that there was murder going on. Then, with 
genuine Tipperary vehemence, he dashed into the fray. 
Had it been a struggle altogether between men, McGrath 
would doubtless have been perplexed which side to espouse, 
lest he might by any mischance be striking in behalf of 
"law and order," — the police, the magistrates, the landlords, 
or that concatenation of them all, "the Government." But 
he saw women attacked, and he could make no mistake in 
hitting hard at their assailants.* Mr. Oarden returned to 
the car after hurling Miss Linden aside, and renewed his en- 
deavors to drag Eleanor Arbuthnot from her seat. " Eleanor ! 
Eleanor ! " he exclaimed, "it is you I want. I know I shall 
hang for this. My life will be the price ! " Laura yet re- 
mained with her ; and he found he must get rid of the elder 

* He is, I believe, still alive, and now in a very respectable position. 
Miss Arbuthnot presented him with a handsome gold watch, suitably 
inscribed ; and Lord Gough obtained for him a situation in the Excise. 



248 NEW IRELAND. 

sister as lie had disposed of Miss Linden. After a long con- 
test he succeeded, and there now remained in the vehicle but 
the one whose capture was the object of all his efforts. The 
hapless girl had seen her companions and protectors one by 
one torn from her side, and now her turn had come. 
Bravely, nobly, all undaunted, would she fight to the last ! 
She put her arm through a leather hanging-strap that was 
fixed beside the window, and held on for dear life. She 
struggled frantically against the powerful savage, who wildly 
pulled and tore at her with all his force. Several times had 
he succeeded but for the interference, at the most critical 
moment, of some one of her few defenders outside ; for all 
this time a deadly encounter was proceeding on the road. 
McGrath, his head literally gashed with wounds, Dwyer the 
coachman, and Smithwick the herd, also bleeding profusely, 
were, ever and anon, despite the greater numbers of their 
foes, able to make a dash at Mr. Carden and drive him from 
his hold. But, by the testimony of all who saw that scene, 
not one of them fought so daringly as Miss Linden. Again 
and again she was flung to the ground by Mr. Carden ; as 
often did she spring to her feet and clutch him by the throat, 
tear his hair by the handful, and pound his face till it bled 
anew ! 

Gasping, breathless, almost fainting, — he had received a 
fearful blow of a stone on the temple from McGrath, — Mr. 
Carden cried to his followers, " Cowards ! cowards ! come on. 
Why don't you fire ? why don't you fire ? " But happily 
they would not fire, though in the carriage close by fire-arms 
had been provided. The only one of them who seemed 
ready to proceed to extremities was Eainsberry. The others, 
as they subsequently complained, had been told that Miss 
Eleanor Arbuthnot was to be a consenting party to the ab- 
duction. "When they saw the turn the affair had taken, they 
wished to be well out of it. Every moment showed them 
more clearly that their necks were being run into halters, 
and every moment also lessened their chance of escape. Help 



THE ABBUTHNOT ABDUCTION. 249 

was now approaching ; shouts were heard in the distance. 
The maddening thought forced itself on Mr. Carden that he 
had failed, and must fly. Not readily, however, could he be 
got to realize the astounding fact. His attendants almost 
forced him into the carriage, and, like arrow from the bended 
bow, off it flew, two of the finest blood-horses in all Munster 
straining in the traces. 

Clonmel was the first to receive the alarm, and quickly Mr. 
Goold, the resident magistrate, Mr. Fosberry, the sub-inspec- 
tor of police, and a strong party of constabulary were in full 
chase. They rightly guessed that the fugitives would make 
for Templemore, and they dashed away northward. Mean- 
while the Eathronan farm steward had taken horse and gal- 
loped to Cashel, where, on receipt of the astounding news 
which he brought, Mr. M'Cullagh, the sub-inspector, with 
all the mounted officers of his force, soon took saddle and 
gave pursuit. About three or four miles north of Holy Cross, 
and within four or five of Barnane gate, is Farney Bridge, 
close by Farney Castle, the picturesque residence of Mr. 
Armstrong. Here, after a ride of ten miles at full gallop, 
they sighted the carriage going at a desperate pace. But Mr. 
M'Cullagh's horses were fresh, and the run of twenty miles 
from Eathronan, over very heavy roads, had told severely on 
Mr. Carden's. The officers soon overhauled the vehicle and 
summoned the occupants to pull up and surrender. The 
answer was a shout of defiance. Instantly springing from 
the stirrup, Mr. M'Cullagh rushed at the horses, managed to 
seize them, and by turning them slightly ran the carriage into 
the ditch. Two attendants jumped from the " dickey" and 
showed fight, but they were at once overpowered. In fact, 
Farney police barrack was quite close at hand, and on the 
first noise of the affray the men turned out, arriving in time 
to assist in the capture and disarmament of the whole party. 
Mr. Carden was discovered to be severely wounded about the 
head and neck. There were found upon him a loaded six- 
barreled revolver, a loaded double-barreled pistol, a belt 
11* 



250 NEW IRELAND. 

containing three hundred and fifteen pounds in gold and 
English notes, a memorandum-book, and a lady's lace vail. 
"With the prisoners were taken three "life-preservers," one 
stained with blood, a large knife, and a pouch of revolver 
ammunition. In the carriage were a coil of rope, coats, rugs, 
shawls, quite a variety of clothing, and a black leather bag. 
On opening the bag it was found to contain two bottles of 
chloroform, one bottle of mixture, a sponge, a bottle of 
smelling-salts, a bottle of tincture of valerian, a small goblet, 
some ladies' gloves, a pair of ladies' slippers, a crochet vest, 
a wig, some bandages and lint, besides minor articles. One 
of the chloroform-bottles was marked " a teaspoonf ul to a 
cup of water." From the following entry discovered in the 
memorandum-book it would seem that Mr. Carden meant to 
drive through his own demesne without stopping, dispatch- 
ing this written message to some trusted agent there : 

" Lock the main gate ; bully and baffle all pursuers ; but 
don't endanger life. Lead pursuers to suspect that I'm shut 
up in the tower. Kake the gravel at the house to remove 
tracks. Give a hint to Johnson to be a friend and mislead 
the pursuers. Do not forward my letters, but write yourself 
to St. James's, and protect the men who were with me." 

All, however, was over now. His desperate game was 
played and lost. He was led a prisoner to Cashel jail. * 

So incredible did it seem that such an outrage as this could 
happen in our country in the middle of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, that when the first reports appeared in the Dublin news- 
papers there were many readers who derided the story as a 
sensational fiction. It was only when every day and hour 
subsequently brought irresistible corroboration that men uni- 
versally accepted as a fact the astounding narrative, f The 

* One of the carriage-horses, worth a hundred and fifty guineas, 
dropped dead on the road, ere they had proceeded more than a mile 
toward the town. 

f The curious influence of example in crimes of a peculiar nature was 
soon exemplified in this case. Within a week or two abductions sud- 



THE ARBUTHNOT ABDUCTION. 251 

particulars that came later to hand intensified the general 
excitement. It became known that the measures Mr. Carden 
had concerted for the abduction of Miss Eleanor Arbuthnot 
had occupied his attention for a long period and had involved 
a considerable expenditure. He had, it was stated, decided 
upon conveying her to the shore of Galway Bay (distant 
some fifty miles), where he had a steamer chartered for the 
purpose of taking her off to sea, relays of horses being placed 
along the entire route from Templemore to Galwa}*. The 
vessel with steam up was lying off the shore, and it was 
stated to be his intention to sail direct for London. These 
preparations cost him a sum of about seven thousand pounds. 
On Thursday, the 27th of July, 1854, the Tipperary 
South Eiding assizes were opened in Clonmel by the Eight 
Honorable Judge Ball. Hardly within the memory of the 
oldest inhabitant was there such a throng of the county fami- 
lies as filled the town upon that day ; for the sensational trial 
of Mr. John Carden was to be the great item of the calendar. 
The Honorable George O'Callaghan, high sheriff, was in a 
state bordering on frenzy for several days previously. Ladies, 
young, old, and neuter, hunted him remorselessly from post 
to pillar with unappeasable demands for admission-tickets. 
He piteously explained that a considerable enlargement of 
the county court-house was impracticable at such short no- 
tice, and that he feared the judge would not listen to the idea 
of conducting the trial on the race-course or in the fair-green. 
All to no purpose. Every fair persecutor was very sure she 
would take up little room, — " hardly any at all," — and could 
easily, "if he pleased," be provided with a nook whence she 
could see that poor mad creature Mr. Carden, dear soul, who 
had, "loved not wisely but too well," and so forth ; and it 

denly reappeared in several parts of the country. A few days after 
the Rathronan attempt a Tipperary policeman carried off a respectable 
young girl from her friends ; and at Cork, John Walsh, a printer, was 
committed for the abduction of Mary Spillane, a girl under eighteen years 
of age, who was entitled to a good fortune on attaining her majority. 



252 NEW IRELAND. 

was nothing but downright ill nature, to be resented to the 
day of his death, for him, the high sheriff, or Sam Going, his 
surly " sub," to say the places were already assigned. He 
fled the town, — was "not at home " to inquirers, — but they 
pushed their way into his study all the same. Then he took 
to his bed, and gave out that he was very ill, — a combination 
of measles and whooping-cough, with a touch of scarlatina 
the Chronicle newspaper said it was ; but the delightful beings 
would penetrate to the side of his couch, and while he groaned 
out from under the counterpane that except the dock there 
was not an inch of space undisposed of, they gave him "bits 
of their mind " in return, which they assured him he would 
never be allowed to forget ! 

It is not to be concluded that the sterner sex were at all 
less earnest in their persecutions. But it was not Mr. Carden 
they wanted to see. "One glimpse at that lovely, that 
heroic girl," was begged and scrambled for with wild enthu- 
siasm. "Sure you can see her some other time," expos- 
tulated poor Mr. Going. The result of such observations on 
his part was his exclusion from "society" in the South 
Eiding for several seasons afterward. 

Jamque dies infanda aderat. Old Judge Ball, grandly 
preceded by halberdiers and pikemen and trumpeters, and 
attended by the truly unhappy sheriff "in state," went down 
to the court-house. The Honorable Cornwallis Maude, fore- 
man of the grand jury, having listened to his lordship's 
opening address, retired with his brethren for a while. Soon 
they returned into com*t with a " true bill " against their 
long-time friend and fellow-magistrate, Mr. John Carden, 
for the forcible abduction of Miss Eleanor Arbuthnot of 
Eathronan. It was known that great legal contention would 
arise as to whether Mr. Carden could be said in law to have 
effected the "abduction," as he had not succeeded in re- 
moving the young lady from the car. To guard against 
mishap, the Crown sent up minor indictments for attempted 
abduction and for aggravated assault. On these also true 



THE ARBUTHNOT ABDUCTTON. 253 

bills were retTirned. The jury acquitted the prisoner on the 
charge of abduction. Next day he was arraigned for the 
attempt to abduct, and was found guilty. A third time, on 
the following Monday, he was put on trial for a felonious 
assault on Smithwick, the Eathronan herd. This was very 
generally felt to be an overdoing of the business by the pros- 
ecution, and sympathy with the prisoner was openly ex- 
pressed on all sides. When the jury this time handed down 
a verdict of " not guilty," there was " loud cheering " in the 
court, "the ladies waving their handkerchiefs." More as- 
tonishing was the fact that the crowd assembled outside the 
building — belonging to a class with whom Mr. Carden, as a 
landlord, was no great favorite — gave vent to like demonstra- 
tions. Before sentence was passed he obtained permission 
from the judge to make some observations, and he addressed 
the court with great ability, exhibiting considerable tact, 
delicacy, and judgment in all he said. He disclaimed 
earnestly, and I verily believe with perfect truth, the un- 
worthy motives as to personal resentment, malice, or gain 
that had been imputed to him. He solemnly declared that 
he had not " the slightest idea or knowledge of the delicate 
state of Mrs. Gough's health." " If I had been aware of it," 
he added, " I certainly would have forbidden the making of 
any such criminal attempt." Lastly, he indignantly repelled 
the idea that the drugs found in the carriage were intended 
for the purpose of producing insensibility. 

This address was listened to with breathless attention, and 
beyond all question elicited much feeling for the man against 
whom but a brief week before every voice was raised. The 
judge, however, took a justly stern view of the facts, and 
sentenced Mr. Carden to two years' imprisonment with hard 
labor in the county jail. On the following day the Tipper 'ary 
Free Press announced that already the unfortunate "lord 
of Barnane," clothed in prison-garb, had commenced the 
dreary expiation invoked upon him by a passion which even 
this ordeal was not to extinguish. 



254 NEW IRELAND. 

Three years rolled by. Every one seemed to have for- 
gotten the Eathronan episode, when suddenly in the news- 
papers there appeared the startling heading, "Mr. John 
Garden again ! Further attempts on Miss Arbuthnot ! " 

In these sensational announcements he was somewhat 
wronged ; yet the story was strange enough in its simple 
truth. Imprisonment, humiliation, mental and physical 
suffering, public scorn, the relentless hostility of her friends, 
had failed to shake Mr. Carden's infatuation for Miss Ar- 
buthnot. He followed her unseen. He inquired about her 
movements, and seemed happy only when, at all events, near 
the spot of earth which she irradiated. The young lady, on 
the other hand, suffered the exquisite torture of ever-present 
apprehension. She knew her tormentor was around. He 
had managed to reach her presence and speak to her once at 
least subsequently to his release, having followed her to El- 
derslie in Surrey. On this occasion his excited manner quite 
affrighted her. In October, 1858, she was staying with her 
sister, now Lady Gough, at St. Helen's, near Blackrock, 
county Dublin, when the woman who kept the gate-lodge one 
morning reported an alarming story. For two or three days 
consecutively a well-dressed female had been calling at the 
lodge, inquiring as to Miss Eleanor's movements, — at what 
times she went out, and whether she ever walked by herself 
in the demesne. At length — so the lodge-keeper averred — 
the mysterious stranger revealed that she came from Mr. 
Carden, and that a large sum of money would be given if 
he were assisted to an interview with the young lady in the 
house or grounds. This was not the only story which reached 
Miss Arbuthnot. She was told her demented persecutor had 
declared that when the Gough family went to live at Lough 
Cooter Castle (recently purchased by them), "which was a 
lonely place, he could easily carry her off. " Things seemed 
to be getting serious : so on the next visit of Mr. Carden's 
female ambassador to the gate-lodge she was seized and 
handed over to the police. Informations were sworn against 






THE ABB UTHNO T ABB UCTION. 255 

Mr. Carden, who was forthwith arrested and called upon to 
give substantial securities that he would not molest or annoy 
Miss Eleanor Arbuthnot. Once more we were in the midst 
of the old excitement. The police court at Kingstown was 
this time the scene of a protracted trial. It became evident 
there had been a good deal of panic exaggeration on the 
part of the lodge-keeper. It was equally clear there had 
been much crafty duplicity practiced by the female ambassa- 
dor. She had been formerly a domestic in the employ of 
Miss Arbuthnot's family, and recently saw her advantage in 
engaging as housekeeper to Mr. Carden. She knew his weak- 
ness, and nattered it. She pretended to have interviews with 
Miss Eleanor, and brought him cheering messages. In short, 
the magistrate saw that on this occasion Mr. Carden was very 
nearly "as much sinned against as sinning." Nevertheless 
he deemed it prudent to bind him in heavy penalties to be of 
the peace the space of one year, — a requirement which he 
resignedly fulfilled. That year flew by, and many more, and 
still he trod his solitary path through life unshaken in the 
conviction that Eleanor Arbuthnot loved the man she pub- 
licly spurned. The fact that she never married another 
perhaps strengthened his hallucination. It is said he more 
than once traveled secretly to Lough Cooter, to catch, unseen, 
one glimpse of her on the road or in the grounds, and then 
returned as he went. 

Tipperary, the North Riding especially, is full of the 
most astonishing stories of this remarkable character. At 
the time of the abduction he was about fifty-four years of 
age. He was a compactly built, muscular man ; about five 
feet six inches in height ; haughty, perhaps it might be said 
overbearing, with strangers, and not given to forming friend- 
ships. Yet he was warmly regarded by his dependants; 
and, fiercely stern as was his dealing with some of his 
tenantry, many of them — those who experienced his better 
qualities — spoke and speak of him in the highest terms. 
He was educated in England, and on attaining his majority 



256 NEW IRELAND. 

found his property had been "under the courts," as the 
people say, — under a Chancery receiver, — for several years, 
owing to litigation. The tenants making some pretext out 
of this state of things, thought to escape paying him the 
rent. He came home to Barnane, summoned them all to 
meet him on a given day, and announced to them his ulti- 
matum, — rent or land, pay or quit. They had the repute of 
being a desperate lot, and they apparently relied on this to 
intimidate him. The rent they would not pay ; the land 
they would keep ; having reasons, they said, to justify the 
former resolve, and determination to maintain the latter. 
But they knew not their man. He said nothing more just 
then, but forthwith proceeded to put Barnane Castle into 
fortress condition. Blacksmiths and carpenters were set to 
work to make the doors and window-shutters bullet-proof ; 
and when this was done a goodly stock of provisions was 
laid in. Local tradition asserts that he had the stairs cut 
away, and the interior of the castle so arranged that if the 
first story was forced he could retreat to the next, and, by 
pulling up a ladder, cut off all communication. He now 
commenced operations in the law-courts. Ejectment decrees 
were taken out against the tenants, and the work of eviction 
began. It was open war between him and them. I am told 
that when any of " the enemy" surrendered he not only re- 
stored them to their land, but treated them liberally as to 
terms. Those who refused to submit were remorselessly ex- 
pelled. Of course he was shot at, — again and again ; but, 
with miraculous good fortune, he always escaped. His 
pluck, his daring, extorted the admiration of friend and foe. 
One day, as he was riding along the road toward Nenagh, 
he was fired at by two men in an adjoining field. He faced 
his horse round, and, although it was truly a stiff jump, 
cleared the fence at a bound, galloped after his would-be assas- 
sins, struck one of them senseless with a blow from his loaded 
riding- whip, then overtook the other, dismounted, and, after 
a desperate struggle, captured him. He deliberately took off 



THE ARBTJTHNOT ABDUCTION. 257 

the stirrup-leathers, and with them bound his prisoners and 
marched them into Nenagh jail. They were tried for the 
crime, convicted on his evidence, and hanged. It was, I 
believe, during this "war" that the insurgent tenantry in a 
body marched on the castle, but found him so securely 
barricaded that he could not be got at. They, however, had 
prepared to take revenge on him in another way. They had 
brought with them a number of horses and plows, and 
now commenced to plow up the beautiful and extensive 
lawn before the hall - door. Mr. Carden had a swivel- 
mounted cannon on the top of the castle : he loaded it with 
grape-shot in view of the plowmg-party, and then sang 
out to them that they had ten minutes to depart. They un- 
yoked in five and galloped off. 

In the last few years of his life his eccentricity took a 
curious turn. He converted the castle into a vast hotel, and 
erected very extensive and costly Turkish baths. I am not 
sure that he ever threw the establishment open to the public 
in the ordinary way, but visitors or tourists passing the way 
were, I am told, very hospitably received. Some six years 
ago he was attacked with apoplexy, and never rallied. His 
death once more recalled his name to public notice ; and, 
with all his failings, the general sentiment was one of com- 
passion and regret for one so strangely compounded of merit 
and demerit. I know not who succeeded to his estates, 
or whether the castle and its beautiful grounds are visited as 
of yore ; but for many a generation yet to come the story of 
his life and adventures — most of all the Eathronan abduc- 
tion — will thrill listening groups around the firesides at Tip- 
perary. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE PHCENIX CONSPIRACY. 

If the absence of political life and action could be called 
tranquility, or torpor be deemed repose, Ireland from 1852 
to 1858 enjoyed that peaceful rest, that cessation from agita- 
tion, which so many authorities declared to be the one thing 
wanting for her prosperity and happiness. With the over- 
throw and ruin of the Tenant-Eight movement in 1852 there 
set in a state of things which ought to have gladdened the 
hearts of all such monitors. Never before, since, in the 
Emancipation campaign of 1820-1829, the body of the nation 
entered into the purposes and practices of public life, had 
Ireland been without some popular organization or move- 
ment that gave a voice to the national aspirations. This 
political activity, which to many eyes seemed so deplorable, 
at one time occupied itself with Catholic Emancipation, at 
another with Corporate Reform, at another with the Tithe 
question ; for a long period with Repeal, for a short one with 
Land-tenure. But now the temple of Janus was closed. 
Political action ceased. The last endeavor of the Irish 
masses to accomplish ameliorations within the lines of the 
constitution had been baffled and crushed. By skillful exer- 
cise of "patronage" the Government had bought off the 
leaders and exploded the hopes and plans of the Tenant 
Leaguers. No direct political defeat could have accomplished 
so decisive a dispersion of the popular organization. It was 
not merely that the people were driven beaten from the par- 
liamentary field, but that they were routed under circum- 
stances which forbade a rally. Their faith in one another, 

258 



TEE PECENIX CONSPIRACY. 259 

their confidence in leaders, their reliance on constitutional 
effort, — all, all were swept awa) r . To the eye of the super- 
ficial observer, Ireland was in 1856 more really and com- 
pletely "pacified" than at any period since the time of 
Strongbow. Eepeal was buried. Disaffection had disap- 
peared. Nationality was unmentioned. Not a shout was 
raised. Not even a village tenant-right club survived. The 
people no longer interested themselves in politics. Who 
went into or who went out of Parliament concerned them 
not. The " agitator's" voice was heard no more. All was 
silence. Eest and peace, some called it. Sullen indifference 
and moody despair others judged it to be. 

I do not believe that in the darkest days of the eighteenth 
century a lower level of public spirit, a lower tone of politi- 
cal morality, prevailed in Ireland than at this time. The 
chill of disappointment, the shock of recent events, drove 
into retirement the best elements of public society. The 
fierce violence and unsparing passion with which the contro- 
versies and resentments arising out of those events were pur- 
sued belonged less to regular political combat than to a sav- 
age guerilla warfare. In such a state of circumstances 
public life was almost wholly abandoned to the self-seeking 
and adventurous. Good faith, honesty, consistency, sincerity 
in political affairs, were cynically scoffed at and derided. 
" Every one for himself and the Castle for us all " was the 
motto of the hour. The political arena was regarded simply 
as a mart in which everything went to the highest bidder ; 
and the speculator who netted the most gains was the man 
most applauded. Such was political Ireland in 1856. 

The schism which split the ranks of the Young Ireland or 
Confederate party in 1848 — referred to in a previous chapter 
— never was really closed. The principles developed on each 
hand in that controversy were very distinct and strongly 
marked. The bulk of the national party, though swept into 
insurrection amidst the fever of '48, held the views of O'Brien , 
Meagher, Dillon, Duffy, O'Gorman, and Doheny, expressed 



260 NEW IRELAND. 

in the Confederation debate of the 4th of February in that 
year. They never based their policy on revolution. It was 
regarded as a contingency not to be shrunk from if absolutely 
forced upon them, but one so remote as to be beyond the 
range of practical concern. The minority embraced revolu- 
tion, not merely as a possible contingency, but as the only 
one to be contemplated and prepared for. They laid the 
failure of the insurrection upon the "rose-water" policy of 
Duffy and O'Brien. The wounded pride, the bitter mortifi- 
cation, with which the result of that attempt was attended 
for them, intensified their feelings. They would not accept 
what had taken place as any test whatever of their policy, 
principles, or plans. The loaded gun had miserably missed 
fire ; that was all. When they found Gavan Duffy, on his 
release from prison, in the revived Nation, falling back on 
a constitutional and parliamentary policy, their anger and 
scorn were very bitter. They assailed him with taunt and 
invective ; but he carried the country along with him, and 
O'Brien, Meagher, O'Doherty, and other of the State pris- 
oners indorsed and approved his course. The Separatists, 
few in number, were put to silence for the time ; but they 
continued to regard with undisguised hostility the line of 
policy which the Nation pursued. 

Through all the course of Irish politics from 1848 down- 
ward, the divergence and conflict of these two sections of 
the national party may be traced, and have to be kept in 
mind. Half the blunders of English politicians, in dealing 
with the passing incidents of domestic Irish affairs, arise 
from ignorance of this state of things. A correct apprecia- 
tion of it supplies a key to many apparently perplexing 
problems. The Constitutional Nationalists, looking to 
Henry Grattan as their founder, and the Kevolutionary 
Nationalists, or Separatists, taking Wolfe Tone as theirs, 
have operated, and still operate, sometimes together, often 
in conflict, in Irish politics, down to the present day. 

Amidst the fervor with which the people embraced the 



THE PECENIX CONSPIRACY. 261 

Tenant-Eight agitation of 1850, the separatist and revolu- 
tionary principles, momentarily embraced a few years before, 
seemed almost extinguished in Ireland ; but abroad — in 
America and elsewhere — the refugees of the '48 movement, 
with one or two important exceptions, invincibly retained 
the violent determinations of that time. Two of these ref- 
ugees, Mr. John O'Mahony and Mr. James Stephens, had 
settled for some time in Paris after their escape from Ire- 
land in 1848. They there fell into the society of men who, 
during the "year of revolutions," in various parts of 
Europe, from Vienna to Rome, had played a part much like 
their own ; and soon, in what may be called the central 
training-school of European revolutionism, they learned 
that the way to begin was by a secret society. After a resi- 
dence of a few years in the French capital, O'Mahony pro- 
ceeded to America. Stephens quietly returned to Ireland, 
and engaged himself as private tutor to a gentleman residing 
near Killarney. Before parting, they had both arrived at 
the conclusion that if ever their principles were to have 
another opportunity of promulgation in Ireland it should 
be in accordance with the skillful tactics they had learned 
in Paris. But they grievously feared that what they exe- 
crated as the retrograde movement of the popular party at 
home, under Duffy's guidance, had rendered any such con- 
tingency hopelessly remote. 

They little thought how near it was at hand. The over- 
throw and virtual suppression of the Tenant League, utterly 
breaking the hope of the people in such political efforts, 
cleared the field and removed the obstacles which the dream- 
ing conspirators thus deplored. With joy they saw the peo- 
ple abandon public politics, and well knew how, brooding, 
in despair, they would weigh the miseries contested elections 
had brought on their heads against the worst that could be- 
fall them on a more violent course. The "calm" of Irish 
politics from '52 to '58, that so delighted superficial observ- 
ers, was in truth the worst symptom in the course of half a 



262 NEW IRELAND. 

century. Still, the dishea,rtemnent was so great, the revul- 
sion of feeling so complete, that although the people had 
given up constitutional efforts it was by no means clear they 
would care to try any other. For a long while no opportu- 
nity presented itself for launching the revolutionary experi- 
ment. 

In the summer of 1857 Mr. Smith O'Brien — who had 
previously been liberated from his confinement at Hobart 
Town, on condition of not returning to Ireland — was allowed 
to return under an unconditional amnesty. His former status 
was fully restored in every respect, except a special exclusion 
from his otherwise rightful rank and title as brother of a 
peer ; his eldest brother having quite recently, on the death 
of the Marquis of Thomond, become Lord Inchiquin. Almost 
the only sign of popular interest in politics which could be 
noted in Ireland at the time was the satisfaction which his 
return called forth, and the tender to him forthwith of the 
representation of an Irish constituency in Parliament. He, 
however, refused to resume any prominent position in active 
public life, although he by no means disclaimed a deep feel- 
ing of interest in Irish questions. He devoted the summer 
of 1858 to a quiet tour through the country, evidently curi- 
ous to see what changes the ten eventful years just past had 
brought about. In several places he was welcomed with 
manifestations of respect and affection, though he avoided 
and seemed to deprecate " public demonstrations " of any 
sort. At Clonmel, the town in which he had been sentenced 
to execution as a traitor, he was presented with an address, to 
which he delivered a reply marked by that quiet dignity and 
that inflexibility of public principle which were with him old 
characteristics. He referred sadly to the incidents of '48, 
but proudly affirmed that the convictions and principles for 
which he was then ready to lay down his life — the right of 
Ireland to her native constitutional form of government — 
were firm and unshaken as ever. This avowal called forth 
a remarkable article in the Times, — remarkable read by the 



THE PHCENIX CONSPIRACY. 263 

light of events near at hand. The great English journal 
declared the roar of this toothless lion need disturb no one. 
Irish disaffection was dead and buried, — would never trouble 
England more. The tranquility, the contentment, the loy- 
alty of the Irish people showed that the days of agitators and 
rebels were past, never to return. 

While the Times, exultant in these assumed facts, was 
pelting them tauntingly at O'Brien, the Government in 
Dublin Castle were making preparations to pounce upon a 
new conspiracy. Within a month we were once more in the 
midst of proclamations, police razzias, arrests, and State 
trials. 

The outbreak of the Indian mutiny had greatly excited 
the revolutionary party among Irishmen at home and in 
America. It looked like the beginning of a protracted and 
perilous struggle for England ; perhaps of her overthrow. 
On this occasion, as during the Crimean War, Ireland was 
denuded of troops. Here, they reflected, were two signal 
opportunities for revolt lost through want of preparation. It 
was determined forthwith to make a beginning with the 
long-meditated project of a secret society. 

Some young men — mercantile assistants and others — in 
the town of Skibbereen had, about this time, established a 
political club or reading-room, called the Phoenix National 
and Literary Society. It might have gone the way of many 
a similar institution, and never been heard of beyond the 
local precincts, but for a visit which Mr. James Stephens 
paid to that neighborhood in May, 1858. He had been 
struck by the rather independent and defiant spirit of some 
observations reported from one of its meetings, and judged 
that among these men he would find material for the work 
he had in hand. Foremost in a sort of careless audacity and 
resolute will was one, already quite popular, or, as "the au- 
thorities" in Skibbereen would say, a "ringleader," with 
young men of his class, — Jeremiah Donovan. He was not 
only given to Gaelic studies, but he exhibited a love for his- 



264= NEW IRELAND. 

torico-genealogical research Avhich was quite alarming to the 
local gentry. He very shortly resumed the " " to his 
name ; and, as his people belonged to Boss, he adopted the 
distinguishing Gaelic affix "Rossa," * thenceforward signing 
his name — one now well known in Ireland, England, and 
Scotland — Jeremiah O'Donovan, Kossa." 

One evening in May, 1858, O'Donovan — or "Rossa," as 
it may be more convenient to call him, although he was not 
generally known by this affix for some time after — was called 
uj)on by a companion who had something important to com- 
municate under the seal of secresy. A mysterious "stranger" 
had come to town on a startling mission. The Irishmen in 
America, he declared, had resolved to aid the men at home 
in achieving the independence of Ireland, and the aid was to 
consist of arms and of men. Rossa goes on to tell the rest : 
"If we had a certain number of men sworn to fight, there 
would be an equal number of arms in Ireland for these men 
when enrolled, and an invading force of from five to ten 
thousand men before the start. The arms were to be in the 
country before the men would be asked to stir ; they would 
not be given into their hands, but were to be kept in hiding- 
places until the appointed time, when every Center could 
take his men to the spot and get the weapons. As soon as 
we had enrolled the men willing to fight, we were to get 
military instructors to teach us how to do as soldiers." 

Nothing could possibly have been more to the heart of 
Rossa than this enterprise. He jumped at it, he says, " and 
next day I inoculated a few others, whom I told to go and 
do likewise." Before a month had elapsed, out of one hun- 
dred young men on the books of the " Literary Society," 
ninety had been sworn in to this secret organization. 

Such was the start of Fenianism. The "mysterious 
stranger " was Mr. James Stephens. 

* Subdivisions of Irish families or clans were sometimes distin- 
guished, one from another, in this way : as " O'Connor, Kerry," 
" O'Sullivan, Bear (or Beara)," etc. 



THE PHCENIX CONSPIRACY. 2G5 

Mr. Stephens well enough knew that the national party, 
bo far as it was represented by the Nation newspaper, — by 
Smith O'Brien and Gavan Duffy, — would resent this effort ; 
that, in fact, the feud between the two sections was sure to 
be resuscitated over such a project. Ordinarily it would be 
impossible to make much headway with a national or popu- 
lar movement, open or secret, which the Nation opposed ; 
but there were reasons for making light of any such diffi- 
culty now. The break-down of Mr. Duffy's parliamentary 
policy, through the Sadleir-Keogh betrayal, was not unna- 
turally presumed to have weakened the influence of the 
Nation ; and I, who had but a short time previously suc- 
ceeded to Mr. Duffy's position in the Nation office, was 
young, little known, and devoid of his great experience and 
influence. In the southwestern angle of the island, formed 
by portions of Cork and Kerry, a very brisk enrollment went 
on; the "secresy," however, being absurdly inefficient. 
In the course of the summer I was made aware that some 
persons had been freely using the name of Mr. Smith 
O'Brien, of Mr. John Mitchel, myself, and others, in 
mysterious whispers about the power of the movement and 
the approval given to it. Whether such idle stories were 
worth contradicting was doubtful ; yet it seemed a serious 
moral responsibility to remain silent. I could not tell 
what Mr. Mitchel's views might be, — he was in America, 
— but I thought it likely he would favor such a scheme.* 
The views of the other gentlemen — of Smith O'Brien espe- 
cially — I well knew to be utterly averse to anything of the 
kind. Meanwhile a new urgency appeared. The Catholic 
Bishop of Kerry, the Most Kev. Dr. Moriarty, called upon 
me one day to say that within the past hour he had heard 
from a Government official a minute account of the " Phoenix 
Society" conspiracy in his diocese. "It is no use pooh- 
poohing such work," said he : " the Government are prepar- 
ing to treat it seriously, and are in possession of full informa- 

* In this I was wrong, as I afterward discovered. 
12 



266 NEW IRELAND. 

tion. A friendly warning in the Nation may disperse the 
whole danger, and bring these young men back to reason. 
At all events, you will save others from being involved in 
the catastrophe." Other newspapers had already been mak- 
ing public references to the subject : still I disliked the role 
of "alarmist." I consulted with Mr. John B. Dillon, Mr. 
Kevin O'Doherty, and other such friends near at hand, and 
wrote to Mr. Smith O'Brien, stating the case, and asking 
him what I ought to do, — whether more harm than good 
might come of any public intervention. The first-named 
gentleman deemed disclaiming unnecessary, and doubted the 
wisdom or efficacy of public interference. The Catholic 
clergy, however, throughout the whole district affected by 
the secret organization had determined to intervene at once 
and severely. Simultaneously from the altars of the Cath- 
olic churches the whole business was vehemently denounced, 
and the people warned to withdraw from and shun it. Mr. 
O'Brien's answer to my confidential communication was a 
letter, which he wished to be instantly published, it being 
his opinion that we were bound to reprehend all attempts to 
identify the Irish national cause with such an organization. 
I hesitated no longer ; I not only published Mr. O'Brien's 
letter, as he desired, but in strong terms appealed to patri- 
otic Irishmen to avoid the hopeless perils and the demoraliz- 
ing effects of secret societies. I was, in the same sense as 
the national leaders had ever been, as " seditious " as any of 
them in my hostility to the imperial scheme of destroying 
our national autonomy, but I had not studied in vain the 
history of secret oath-bound associations. I regarded them 
with horror. I knew all that could be said as to their advan- 
tages in revolutionizing a country ; but even in the firmest 
and best of hands they had a direct tendency to demoraliza- 
tion, and were often, on the whole, more perilous to society 
than open tyranny. In joining issue on this occasion with the 
hidden chiefs of the movement, I knew I was setting a great 
deal on the cast ; yet I did not know all. No action of all my 



THE PECENIX CONSPIRACY. 267 

life bore consequences more full of suffering and sacrifice 
for me than did this throughout subsequent years. Conduct- 
ing such a journal as the Nation, I had no choice as to 
silence. An equivocal attitude would have been despicably 
mean and cowardly. I was called upon to speak and act, 
under not only the public but the conscientious constraint 
of duty, and I did so. The result proved that the influence 
of the Nation had been underrated ; or, perhaps I should 
say, its influence in co-operation with the appeals of the 
Catholic clergy. The enrollment was stopped, and it seemed 
for a while as if the movement had been relinquished. So 
great had been the effect of the firm but friendly remon- 
strances addressed to the people, that I verily believed we 
should hear no more of the Phoenix Society. Not so, how- 
ever. The Government having long previously got its hand 
upon the business, was not willing to forego the sensa- 
tional performance of crushing a conspiracy against its 
power. On the 3d of December, 1858, a vice-regal proc- 
lamation appeared, declaring that such a public danger 
existed. In a few days after a simultaneous raid was made 
upon the Phoenix men in Skibbereen, Bantry, Kenmare, 
and Killarney. The kingdom was alarmed anew by the 
spectacle of terrorizing arrests and State prosecutions. This 
was very generally regarded as "forcing an open gate," and 
the severities visited upon some of the prisoners — young men 
of excellent character, and many of them warmly regarded 
in their native districts — excited considerable public sympa- 
thy. The Government, however, seemed determined to treat 
the affair in a very serious spirit. A special commission was 
issued for the counties of Kerry and Cork, in each of which 
some score of prisoners awaited trial. In March, 1859, the 
whole array of Crown counsel, led by the Attorney-General, 
Mr. Whiteside, M.P., commenced proceedings at Tralee. 
The first prisoner arraigned was a national school-teacher 
named Daniel O'Sullivan.* The trial, which was very pro- 

* It was a coincidence that the informer whose evidence was adduced 
to convict him bore the same name. 



268 NEW IRELAND. 

tracted, was signalized by the remarkably able defense of the 
prisoner by Mr. Thomas O'Hagan, Q.C., some ten or eleven 
years subsequently Lord Chancellor of Ireland, and now 
Baron O'Hagan.* The story disclosed by the Crown was 
simply that in the districts already mentioned numbers of 
young men were sworn into a secret society such as Eossa 
describes, and that small parties of them were in the habit of 
going through military drill, chiefly at night-time, but some- 
times in the day. Beyond this stage the business had not 
progressed, and as far as could be known the organization 
had not extended elsewhere in Ireland. The leader was a 
mysterious personage, referred to generally as "the Seavac," 
— Gaelic for hawk, and pronounced "Sheuk" — but pretty 
well known to be none other than Mr. Stephens. The jury 
disagreed, and the further trials were postponed. At the next 
Kerry assizes, the prisoner, O'Sullivan, finding the Crown 
impaneling an exclusively Protestant jury, — ordering every 
Catholic who came to the book to "stand by," — declined to 
proceed with any defense. He said this was not " trial by 
jury," as supposed in law, and he would not recognize it as 
such by defense. The proceedings, consequently, were tame 
and brief. He was at once found guilty and sentenced to 
ten years' penal servitude, f 

When, some months later on, the trial of the Cork pris- 

* By one act of his legislative career Lord O'Hagan may truly be said 
to have writ his name large on the page of our modern history. No 
man of this generation has done more to surround the law and its ad- 
ministration with popular confidence and respect than he by his great 
measure of Jury Reform. The Irish people were thereby assured for 
the first time that jury manipulation was not to render a Crown prose- 
cution a game with loaded dice. When Lord O'Hagan's act first went 
into operation, some jars and hitches occurred, and partisans of the 
old system called out " failure." But it has long since become the 
object of universal praise, as a great and statesmanlike piece of legis- 
lation. 

f Between 1848 and 1858 "transportation beyond the seas" was 
abolished, and penal servitude took its place as a punishment. 



TEE PECENIX CONSPIRACY. 2G9 

oners approached, their counsel and other friends urged them 
strongly to plead guilty. In the first place, the funds pub- 
licly collected to insure fair legal advocacy for the accused 
had been consumed by the protracted trial of O'Sullivan at 
Tralee. In the next place, it was represented to them that 
in consideration of such a course on their part the Crown 
would certainly be content to record the conviction and lib- 
erate them " to appear when called on," and, moreover, would 
probably commute the sentence on their comrade O'Sullivan. 
On an undertaking or promise to this latter effect — very 
tardily complied with by the Government afterward — the 
suggestion or compromise was adopted. Kossa and his com- 
panions pleaded guilty, and were released. The excitement 
which the prosecutions occasioned passed away ; no more was 
heard of the Phcenix enrollment. The attempt, such as it 
was, very evidently was abandoned. We all felicitated our- 
selves that the curtain fell on no worse results, no wider mis- 
chief, no more protracted punishments. Foolish was the 
best of our wisdom in thinking this was the end. We had 
seen only the first act in the astonishing drama of Irish 
Fenianism. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

PAPAL IKELAND. 

Of all Catholic nations or countries in the world — the 
Tyrol alone excepted — Ireland is perhaps the most Papal, the 
most "Ultramontane." In designations bestowed by Koman 
Pontiffs others hold high rank. The King of France was 
called " the Eldest Son of the Church ;" the King of Spain 
is "His Most Catholic Majesty ;" and the Sovereign of Eng- 
land to this day retains a Papal title which declares the bearer 
to be Defender of the Roman doctrines against Protestant- 
ism. But these titles represent little of reality now. In 
most cases what are called "Catholic nations " are merely 
countries in which Catholicity continues to be the State re- 
ligion and is the form of faith professed by the bulk of the 
population. 

In Ireland, on the other hand, religious conviction — what 
may be called active Catholicism — marks the population, — 
enters into their daily life and thought and action. The 
churches are crowded as well by men as by women ; and in 
every sacrament and ceremony of their religion participation 
is extensive and earnest. Reverence for the sacerdotal char- 
acter is so deep and strong as to be called "superstitious" by 
observers who belong to a different faith ; and devotion to 
the Pope, attachment to the Roman See, is probably more in- 
tense in Ireland than in any other part of the habitable globe, 
"the Leonine City" itself not excluded. 

In 1859 the Irish people found themselves in a strange 
dilemma, between sympathy with France on the one hand, 
and apprehensions for the Pope on the other. At the New 

270 



PAPAL IBELAJm 271 

Year's receptions in the Tuileries, the Emperor Napoleon, by 
a remark to Baron Hiibner, regretting that the relations 
between France and Austria were not more satisfactory, set 
all Europe in a ferment. War — war between France and 
Italy and Austria — was plainly at hand. England offered 
her accustomed mediation, which was, of course, accepted by 
all the parties, not one of whom, however, slackened its 
preparations or dreamt for a moment of desisting. Three 
months were given to diplomatic fooling, till the campaign 
season might be reached, each side trying how to maneuver 
the other into an appearance of "aggression." At length, on 
the 9th of April, fifty thousand men set out from Vienna for 
Lombardy, and next day sixty thousand more followed. On 
the 21st an Austrian ultimatum was dispatched to Turin, 
calling on Piedmont to disarm the menacing forces it had 
been assembling for some time. To this Victor Emmanuel 
replied on the 25th by an address to his army, declaring hos- 
tilities against Austria. Count Cavour had meanwhile tele- 
graphed to the French emperor, "Help! Help! The 
Austrians are upon us ! " In less than twenty-four hours the 
French army marched from Paris for Italy. On the same 
day the Austrians at one point and the Sardinians at another 
crossed the Ticino. In a brief campaign the Austrians were 
driven within the Quadrilateral. Montebello was fought on 
the 20th May, Palestro on the 31st, Magenta on the 4th of 
June, and Solferino on the 24th. Suddenly, in the midst 
of victories, Napoleon stopped and proffered peace. The 
Treaty of Villafranca. on the 11th of July, subsequently rati- 
fied at Zurich, closed the Italian war of 1859. 

From May to July a curious struggle of sympathies pre- 
vailed in Ireland. The Catholic prelates and clergy de- 
nounced the conduct of the Emperor Napoleon as utterly 
perfidious. His Majesty's assurances of safety and protection 
for the Pope were likened to the embraces of a Judas ; for 
that when Francis Joseph had been crushed, Pio Nono's turn 
for attack and destruction would come, they emphatically pre- 



272 NEW IRELAND. 

dieted. Still, popular feeling in Ireland followed the French 
flag, especially when it was found that a Franco-Irishman, 
General Patrick MacMahon, was placed in command of a 
division. The news of the battle of Magenta — that Mac- 
Mahon had turned the tide of victory, had saved the French 
Emperor, and had been named Marshal of France and Duke 
of Magenta for so memorable an achievement — evoked bound- 
less joy in Ireland. Bonfires blazed on the hills of Clare, the 
ancient home of his ancestors. His name became a popular 
watchword all over the island. In the Nation we published, 
from searches in the public archives at home and in France, an 
authentic record of his family, from the capitulation of Lim- 
erick to the victory of Magenta. * A proposition that our 

* "Patrick MacMahon, of Torrodile, in the county of Limerick, was 
married to Margaret, daughter of John O'Sullivan, of Bantry, in the 
county of Cork, of the House of O'Sullivan Beare. Honorably identi- 
fied with the cause of the last of the Stuarts, he sheathed his sword at 
the Treaty of Limerick, and retired, with his wife, — ' a lady/ say the 
records, ' of the rarest beauty and virtue,' — to the friendly shores of 
France. Here his son, John MacMahon, of Autun, married an heiress, 
and was created Count d'Equilly. On the 28th of September, 1749, 
the Count applied to the Irish Government of that day— accompanying 
his application with the necessary fees, etc., for the officers of 'Ulster 
King-at-Arms ' — to have his genealogy, together with the records, etc., 
of his family, duly authenticated, collected, and recorded with all 
necessary verification, in order that his children and their posterity in 
France might have all-sufficient proof of the proud fact that they were 
Irish. All this was accordingly done, as maybe seen in the records in 
Birmingham Tower, Dublin Castle, countersigned by the then Lord- 
Lieutenant of Ireland, and the various other requisite signatures. In 
those records he is described as of ' the noble family, paternally of 
MacMahon of Clonderala (in Clare), and maternally of the noble family 
of O'Sullivan Beare.' He was the grandfather of the Marshal Duke 
of Magenta. The Count's genealogy commences in the middle of the 
fifteenth century, and traces him through eight generations as follows : 
Terence MacMahon, proprietor of Clonderala, married Helena, daugh- 
ter of Maurice Fitzgerald, Earl of Kildare, died 1472, and was interred 
in the Monastery of Ashelin, in Munster. He was succeeded by his 
son Donatus MacMahon, who married Honora O'Brien, of the noble 



PAPAL IRELAND. 273 

people should present the Franco-Irish marshal with a sword 
of honor was responded to with unexampled enthusiasm. 
Five hundred pounds were called for ; nearly seven hundred 
were subscribed ; and a really magnificent sword and scab- 
bard were manufactured, from designs specially furnished 
by an Irish artist, Mr. E. Fitzpatrick. The Marshal, on 
being made aware of the proposed compliment, intimated 
that, subject to the requisite permission of the Emperor, he 
would be truly happy to receive this mark of regard from his 

family of Thomond ; and his son, Terence MacMahon, Esq. , married 
Joanna, daughter of John MacNamara, Esq., of Dohaghtin, commonly 
styled 'MacNamara Reagh,' and had a son Bernard MacMahon, Esq., 
whose wife was Margarita, daughter of Donatus O'Brien of Daugh. 
Mortogh MacMahon, son of Bernard, married Eleanora, daughter of 
William O'Nelan of Emri, colonel of a regiment of horse in the army 
of Charles L, and was father of Maurice MacMahon, Esq., whose wife 
Helena was daughter of Maurice Fitzgerald, Esq., of Ballinoe, Knight 
of Glinn. Mortogh MacMahon, son of Maurice, married Helena, 
daughter of Emanuel MacSheehy, Esq., of Ballylinan, and was father 
of the above-named Patrick MacMahon, who married Margarita, daugh- 
ter of John O'Sullivan, Esq., mother of John, first Count d'Equilly. 
The descent of the Count MacMabon, maternally, through the O'Sul- 
livans is as follows : Mortogh O'Sullivan Beare, of Bantry, in the 
county of Cork, married Maryann, daughter of James Lord Desmond, 
and dying was interred, 1541, in the Convent of Friars Minors, Cork. 
His son, John O'Sullivan, of Bantry, married Joanna, daughter of 
Gerald de Courcey, Baron of Kinsale, and died 1578, leaving Daniel 
O'Sullivan, Esq. , his son, who married Anna, daughter of Christopher 
O'Driscoll, of Baltimore, in the county Cork, Esq., and died at Madrid, 
leaving his son John O'Sullivan, of Bantry, Esq., who married Mar- 
garet, daughter of James O'Donovan of Roscarbery, Esq. Bartholo- 
mew O'Sullivan, son of John, was colonel in the army of James II., at 
the siege of Limerick, and married Helena, daughter of Thomas 
Fitzmaurice, Baron of Kerry, by whom he had Major John O'Sullivan 
of Bantry, who married Honoria, daughter of Robert MacCarty, of 
'Castro Leonino (Castlelyons), in the county of Cork, Esq., grandson 
of Daniel MacCarty, Lord of Glancare and Margaret, his wife, daugh- 
ter of Donogh Lord Desmond, and died 1731.' Their daughter was 
Margarita, who married Patrick MacMahon, Esq., of Torrodile." 
12* 



274 NEW IRELAND. 

anciens compatriotes, as he styled the Irish people. * The 
Emperor, in a very marked way, assented, and on the 2d of 
September, 1860, my brother, Mr. T. D. Sullivan, and 
Dr. George Sigerson, a deputation from the Irish committee, 
proceeded to France to make the formal presentation. The 
Marshal was at the time in command at Chalons, and to 
honor the arrival of the Irish deputation on such an errand 
the camp was en fete. The formal presentation took place 
at headquarters. An address, engrossed in Irish and French, 
and signed on behalf of the Dublin committee by The 
O'Donoghue, M.P., chairman, and by Mr. P. J. Smyth and 
Mr. T. D. Sullivan, hon. secretaries, was read by one of the 
deputation. The Marshal was visibly affected, and, with a 
voice betraying considerable emotion, he replied as fol- 
lows : f 

"Gentlemen, — I am most deeply touched by the senti- 
ments which you have just expressed to me ; and I pray that 
you will tell the Irish whom you represent how grateful I 
feel for the testimony of esteem and sympathy which you 
offer me in their name. This testimony, by its spontaneous 
character, proves to me that Green Erin has preserved those 
chivalrous ideas, that vivacity, and that warmth of heart 
which have ever distinguished her. 



* "Je dois commencer par vous dire que je suis excessivement recon- 
naissant de ce temoignage d'interet de la part d'anciens compatriotes 
avec lesquels je n'ai eu depuis long-temps que des rapports indirects." 

f " Messieurs, — Je suis on ne peut plus touche des sentiments que 
vous venez de m'exprimer, et je vous prie de dire aux Irlandais que 
vous representez combien je suis reconnaissant du temoignage d'estime 
et sympathie que vous m'offrez en leur nom. Ce temoignage par sa 
spontaneite m'a prouve que La Verte Erinn avait conservee ces idees 
chevalresques, cette vivacite et cette chaleur de cceur qui Font de tout 
temps distingue. 

"Je laisserai, un jour, a mon fils aine, Patrice, cette magnifique 
epee. Elle sera pour lui, comme elle est pour moi, un gage nouveau 
des liens etroits qui doivent l'unir a jamais au noble pays de ses an- 
cetres." 



PAPAL IRELAND. 275 

"I will leave one day to my eldest son, Patrick, this mag- 
nificent sword. It will be for him, as it is for myself, a new 
pledge of those close ties which should unite him forever to 
the noble country of his ancestors." 

The deputation, together with some friends who had ac- 
companied them from Paris, were entertained at a splendid 
banquet, to which he had invited to meet them quite a num- 
ber of French officers and noblemen of Irish lineage, — Com- 
mandant Dillon, General O'Farrell, General Sutton de 
Clonard, — men whose names proclaimed at least their Irish 
origin, although Ireland they had never seen. The hero of 
Magenta proved to be quite conversant with Irish history, 
poetry, and literature. "C'etait un pays tout-a-f ait poli- 
tique," said he, addressing a French general ; "it was a land 
of poetry, which character it has not even yet lost : its an- 
cient laws were often written in verse, and the bards ranked 
next to royalty." 

That he could turn a joke with quick humor was shown 
by his play upon the French word "eau" and the Irish pre- 
nominal " 0." "He had been making particular inquiries," 
says a member of the deputation, " about the signification of 
the ' ' and ' Mac ; ' and on their origin being explained to 
him, he mentioned that some persons, when they saw his 
name, said, * That is a Scotch name.' This, he said, was 
absurd, of course ; but were there not other names in Ireland 
having Mac prefixed ? He was answered there were many 
such, — Mac Carthy, Mac Guire, etc. ; but that it was, indeed, 
remarkable enough that the Scots showed such a predilection 
for the ' Mac' * O's ' were plenty in Ireland, whilst ' il n'y a 
pas d'O en Ecosse.' 

" 'Comment,' exclaimed the Marshal, with a sparkle of 
genuine fun in his eye, — 'comment, malgre ses lacs ?" 

There is good reason to believe that Napoleon the Third 
halted at Villafranca because he found himself in the toils of 
a man who was his master in every art of diplomacy and 
politics, — Count Cavour. The Emperor had dreams and 



276 NEW IRELAND. 

schemes of compromise, and thought he could assign limits 
to the bold designs of the Turin organizer, by whom from 
first to last he was baffled, outwitted, and beaten. Even 
while Napoleon was theorizing over his project of an Italian 
Confederation with the Pope at its head, Cavour, determined 
to defeat it, was secretly spreading his agencies and opera- 
tions throughout the entire peninsula. On the 20th of Oc- 
tober Victor Emmanuel openly rejected the Villafranca plan, 
declaring he was engaged to the Italian people. In the same 
month was announced the division of the territory so far 
secured. Savoy and Nice were to fall to the French Empe- 
ror, as compensation for Lombardy ; the Eomagna, Parma, 
and Modena being appropriated by the Sardinian king. But 
was annexation to stop even at this point? A feeling of 
uneasiness and apprehension spread through Ireland. The 
new year, 1860, found the island heaving with excitement. 
That on one ground or another the Pope would be openly 
attacked and further despoiled was now the universal con- 
viction, and monster meetings to tender him sympathy and 
support were held in every province and county. Subscrip- 
tions in his aid poured in from every parish and diocese in 
the kingdom. They amounted in the aggregate to a vast 
sum ; but the depth and force of popular feeling which these 
sixpences and shillings of the poor represented, even more 
than did the splendid contributions of the rich and aristo- 
cratic classes, gave a grave importance to this extraordinary 
upheaval of religious emotion. 

On this subject there was displayed one of the most violent 
conflicts of English and Irish popular opinion which I have 
ever noted. In England the Italian movement evoked the 
warmest admiration. It was hailed as the onward march of 
liberty, the overthrow of oppression. In Ireland it was de- 
nounced as the rapacity of a dishonest neighboring state, 
sapping and undermining the Pontifical power, and now 
planning an open seizure of the prey. Englishmen were 
disgusted that the Irish should, out of fanatical worship of 



PAPAL IRELAND. 277 

the Pope, desire to prevent the Romans from being free. 
Irishmen were angered to see how filibustering raids were 
subsidized in England against an aged and peaceful PontiiF, 
the head of Christendom, while a few years previously Great 
Britain had spent millions of money and shed rivers of blood 
to uphold the head of Mohammedanism. The artillery of 
journalism waged a furious duel across the Channel. " Every 
people has a right to choose its own form of Government," 
said the English press. " Then let us choose ours," an- 
swered the Irish. "The Romans have a right to rebel," 
said the one. "But there is no question of the Romans re- 
belling," responded the other : "it is a question of tbe Pied- 
montese invading the Pope's dominions." In short, the 
dispute resolved itself briefly into this, that in England the 
reality of oppression and disaffection in the Pope's domin- 
ions was fully believed in, while in Ireland the discontent 
was declared to be mainly a commodity produced by Sardin- 
ian agencies for Sardinian ends, — that is to say, for annexa- 
tion purposes. 

Each party acted accordingly. From England went pub- 
lic addresses, money, and men to help Victor Emmanuel and 
Garibaldi. From Ireland went addresses and money, but 
not yet men, to defend the Roman Pontiff against the threat- 
ened attack. Not yet men ; but soon the cry was raised, 
Why not men also ? One of the popular journals, the Dun- 
dalk Democrat, declared that Ireland's best offering to the 
Supreme Pontiff at this crisis would be an Irish brigade. I 
had myself for some time previously been vainly urging the 
same view on Irish ecclesiastical dignitaries whom I knew to 
be in intimate correspondence with Rome. I found I was 
dealing with a wofully conservative body of men. They 
quite started, affrighted, from the use of anything like force 
or violence even in self-defense. I believe my views and 
propositions were forwarded to or mentioned at Rome, but 
they were rather discouragingly received. Monsignor de 
Merode was then the pontifical minister of military affairs. 



278 NEW IRELAND. 

He early foresaw that to the arbitrament of the battle-field 
this whole business must some day come ; and he strained 
every nerve to prepare for such a contingency. Only in a 
slow and halting and reluctant way could he obtain assent 
to his views at the Vatican, where Cardinal Antonelli, per- 
suaded that resistance single-handed would be hopeless, was 
altogether for relying on "the Christian Powers." Pio 
Nono himself was, moreover, to the last more or less averse 
to military preparation or demonstration. He was a man of 
prayer ; Cardinal Antonelli was a man of diplomacy ; Mon- 
signor de Merode believed that Count Cavour cared little for 
either, and that, taking to the sword, he could be stopped 
only by the sword, if at all. 

At last we heard that General Lamoriciere had been offered 
and had accepted the chief command of the Pontifical army, 
— nominally twenty thousand, in reality about ten thousand, 
men. To those in any degree behind the scenes this meant 
that Monsignor de Merode had at length carried the day, 
and that an effort would be made to organize a force for the 
defense of the Eoman territory. 

One day early in March, 1860, two gentlemen entered my 
office in Lower Abbey Street, Dublin. One was a friend 
whom I knew to be deeply interested in the now critical 
affairs of the Pontifical Government ; the other was a 
stranger, apparently a foreigner. "Here," said my friend, 
"is a gentleman who shares some of those views you have 
been so hotly urging about defending Rome." I found in 
my unknown visitor Count Charles MacDonnell, of Vienna, 
trusted attache of Field-Marshal Count Nugent, and a Cham- 
berlain of the Holy Father. If ever a chivalrous devotion 
to a fallen cause was personified, it was in this loyal and 
brave-hearted gentleman. He reminded me of those High- 
land chieftains whose attachment to the Stuarts, romantic 
and tragical, evokes sympathy and admiration in every gener- 
ous breast. Had he lived in the thirteenth century, he 
would have been a crusader knight : in 1041 he would have 



PAPAL IRELAND. 279 

been a Cavalier ; in 1745 he would have been at the side of 
Prince Charles Edward on the fatal field of Culloden. He 
came to see what Ireland would do, — what aid she would 
contribute in the military defense of the Roman patrimony. 
"We know in Rome," said he, "that Garibaldi, with the 
connivance and secret assistance of the Turin Government, 
is organizing an aggressive expedition, but whether to strike 
at Naples or at us in the first instance we cannot tell. In 
any case we shall be attacked this summer. What will Ire- 
land do for us ? " 

"In the improbable event of the Government allowing 
volunteering, as in the case of Donna Maria," I answered, 
"you can have thirty thousand men ; if, as is most likely, 
they give no permission but no active opposition, you will 
probably get ten thousand : if they actively prevent, nothing 
can be done. In my opinion, unless the proceeding is too 
glaring and open, Lord Palmerston will not raise a conflict, 
in view of Lord Ellenborough's letter and the 'million of 
muskets' movement on the other side in England. But the 
chief difficulty will be our own bishops. They will be ad- 
verse or neutral. Not one of them believes the little army 
of Lamoriciere can cope with the overpowering odds of 
Sardinia. " 

The Count pulled from his breast a scarlet morocco letter- 
case, and in five minutes satisfied me that abundant assur- 
ance had been secretly given at Rome by some of the crowned 
heads of Europe that if the Monsignor de Merode could, 
without French or Austrian intervention, defeat invasion by 
Garibaldian irregulars, Sardinia would be prevented from 
attacking. 

This threw a new light on the situation. I think I can 
assert that it was upon the faith of those private assurances 
the whole of General Lamoriciere's movements were planned 
in 1860. 

My friend the Count was intensely Austrian, and hated 
Napoleon with a deadly hatred. "He is a liar," he said, 



280 NEW IRELAND. 

"and the truth is not in him. He will not keep his word ; 
but others will." I could see very early that the mortal jeal- 
ousy between France and Austria would prove the real peril 
of Pio Nono. 

We set off on a tour through the provinces, to sound our 
way as to what might be done, and how best to do it. I was 
painfully anxious that the Count should be out of the country 
as soon as possible, or, at all events, that he should send his 
red dispatch-case away, for it contained one or two auto- 
graph letters which, if lost, or on any pretext seized, would 
have raised an awkward diplomatic storm on the Continent. 
But he would "complete his mission" at all hazards; and 
he did. Within less than a month from his departure the 
first band of Pontifical volunteers left Ireland. Before the 
end of July nearly two thousand men had proceeded in 
small parties across the continent of Europe, and reached 
the Soman States. Deep mistrust of the Emperor Napoleon 
at first forbade the hazard of sending men through France, 
and accordingly the route selected was by way of Belgium 
and Austria. The line from Bodenbach to Trieste and 
Ancona was under the charge of Count MacDonnell ; the 
portion reaching from Ireland to Bodenbach was under the 
authority of a committee or directorate in Dublin, consisting 
of three or four gentlemen, in whose labors I bore some part. 
Only one of them may I name, — he is now no more, — and 
of him I can sincerely affirm that the Pontifical power had 
never fallen if all who owed it allegiance had served it with 
the deep-hearted love and devotion of Laurence Canon 
Forde. 

The expedition which Count MacDonnell had predicted or 
mentioned in March proved a reality. On the 4th of April 
an outbreak took place at Palermo, and on the 5th of May 
the famous " Thousand " of Garibaldi sailed from Genoa. 
From that date to the beginning of September Europe wit- 
nessed the unchecked victorious progress of that force. By 
the 28th of July they had concpiered Sicily. On the 8th of 



PAPAL IRELAND. 281 

September General Garibaldi, M. Dumas, pere, and Mr. Ed- 
win James, his chief non-military colleagues in the campaign, 
entered Naples without opposition, Francis II. having retired 
to Gaeta. Next day Victor Emmanuel was proclaimed king 
in the Neapolitan capital. 

The endeavor of Generals Lamoriciere and Kanzler to 
hurriedly organize a really efficient military system was a 
work of almost hopeless difficulty. Papal Eome was not 
a belligerent power. Its so-called army, or Swiss Guard, was 
little more than a police force. Nevertheless, by the month 
of August Lamoriciere declared himself confident of en- 
countering and defeating the now imminent attack of the 
victorious Garibaldians penetrating from the Neapolitan side. 
Meanwhile a formidable Sardinian force was being assembled 
on the northern frontier, under Generals Cialdini and Fanti. 
To the very last the French Emperor sent tranquilizing 
assurances, on the faith of Turin declarations, that no hostile 
movement against the Pontifical territory was intended ; * 
that this army was assembled to " repress disorder " should 
the Garibaldian movement in the south extend. Suddenly, 
on the 9th of September, 1860, Cardinal Antonelli received 
from Count Cavour a demand for the disbandment of La- 



* "At the beginning of the month of September yonr excellency 
communicated to me the assurances given by the French ambassador 
on behalf of Piedmont, that not only that power would not invade our 
territory, but that it would even oppose the invasion by any bands of 
volunteers which were forming over our frontiers. The measures 
adopted against Colonel Nicotera, who had assembled two thousand 
men in the neighborhood of Leghorn, and who wished to throw them 
on our coasts, were additionally promised to us ; and it appeared that 
it was in the direction of Naples that we had to fear an invasions Al- 
ready at several intervals the embarkation of troops in Sicily and in 
the Calabria was announced as intending to attack us in the direction 
of the Marches ; and after the occupation of Naples by General Gari 
baldi everything led us to believe that our southern provinces would 
be shortly invaded." — Official Report by General Lamoriciere to the 
Pontifical Ministry of War. 



282 NEW IRELAND. 

moriciere's force. Without awaiting reply, the corps of 
Generals Fanti and Cialdini burst across the frontier, took 
Lamoriciere in flank and rear, and cut in pieces the forma- 
tion he had effected for attack from a different quarter. In 
a brief and disastrous campaign, in which, hopelessly out- 
numbered and taken by surprise, it never had a chance, the 
Pontifical army was defeated at every point. This crash 
found the Irish, mostly unarmed, in process of drill at An- 
cona, Spoleto, Perugia, and Foligno. Their organization 
into a battalion, called the " Battalion of St. Patrick," under 
the command of Major Myles W. O'Keilly (the present 
member of Parliament for Longford County), had barely 
been effected ; but their equipment was not yet accomplished. 
Lamoriciere seemed stunned by the news of the Piedmontese 
invasion. Marching out of Spoleto at midnight of the 14th, 
he made a desperate effort to gather his forces for a dash to 
Ancona, the Piedmontese commander being evidently deter- 
mined to cut him off. Strange as it may sound at this day, 
even at that moment the Papal general believed, and had re- 
ceived reason to believe, that if he could hold the enemy at 
bay for a week or two the French Emperor would come to 
his aid. At Macerata, on the 17th, he effected a junction 
with General Pimodan. Pushing on next day, he found 
General Cialdini lying across his course in strong position at 
Castelfidardo. Here was fought the really decisive battle of 
the campaign. Lamoriciere succeeded in cutting his way 
through to Ancona, at the head of a troop of chasseurs ; but 
his army was annihilated. 

Meanwhile General Fanti's corps had attacked and taken 
Perugia on the 15th, and summoned Spoleto to surrender on 
the 17th. The town, or rather the "Kocca," was held by 
Major O'Keilly and three hundred Irishmen, besides some 
few Franco-Belgians, Austrians, Swiss, and native Italians. 
Quite a formidable controversy was raised by some of the 
English newspapers over this capture of Spoleto from the 
Irish ; but the signal gallantry of the defense has been at- 



PAPAL IRELAND. 283 

tested by authorities on whose testimony Major O'Keilly and 
his three hundred Irishmen may proudly rest their repu- 
tation, — namely, General Brignone, the commander of the 
attacking force, and General Lamoriciere, one of the first 
soldiers in Europe. The former in the articles of capitula- 
tion says, — 

" The officers and soldiers shall be treated in all respects with that 
urbanity and that respect which befit honorable and brave troops, as 
they have proved themselves to be in to-day's fight." 

On the 28th of September Ancona, besieged by land and 
sea, its defenses laid in ruins by a continuous bombardment, 
surrendered to Admiral Persano, whose recently-published 
correspondence throws a startling light on the secret history 
of this campaign. 

Whether the Irish companies in this ill-fated struggle dis- 
played at all events "the ancient courage of their race" is a 
question that keenly touches the national honor. Happily 
its decision does not rest merely on the frank and modest re- 
port of their commander, nor yet on the eulogies of the 
Papal minister of war. No one will deny that General La- 
moriciere was a competent military authority as to the bear- 
ing and conduct of soldiers. In his official report he makes 
severe reflections on some small portion of the troops who 
served under his command ; but of the Irish he never speaks 
save in praise. He bears special testimony to their bravery 
at Perugia, at Spoleto, at Castelfidardo, and at Ancona. 
"At Perugia," he says, "one Irish company" (the total 
Irish force present) " and the greater part of the battalion 
of the 2d Eegiment of the Line alone showed themselves de- 
termined to do their duty." At Spoleto, he says, the Irish 
"defended themselves with great gallantry." At Castelfi- 
dardo, he says, "two howitzers were moved forward, under 
a very sharp fire, with the aid of the Irish. These brave 
soldiers, after having accomplished the mission with which 
they were charged, reunited themselves with the tirailleurs, 



284 NEW IRELAND. 

and during the rest of the battle distinguished themselves 
in their ranks." 

Often have bitter and passionate words passed between the 
English and Irish press ; but I doubt if ever the language of 
taunt and contumely on the one hand, of hatred and defiance 
on the other, proceeded to greater lengths than on this occa- 
sion. The presence of an Irish force on the Papal side ut- 
terly outraged English opinion ; and the way in which Eng- 
lish anger found expression in the public journals was in 
calling the Irish "cowards" and "mercenaries." Whatever 
else may be said of Irishmen, as England well knows, they 
make good soldiers. They are not "cowards;" and what- 
ever else might have been charged upon those men, they 
were not "mercenaries." From the English point of view 
they were fanatics, but certainly not mercenaries. They left 
country, home, and friends to fight for a cause in which, 
rightly or wrongly, as Englishmen might judge, they deemed 
it honorable and holy to die. Pay — mercenary considerations 
— could have had no place in their motives ; for the pay of a 
Papal soldier was merely nominal, and his rations were poor 
indeed. The taunts and invectives of the English press 
evoked fierce rejoinder in Ireland. By way of answer to the 
aspersions on the battalion lying prisoners at Leghorn and 
Genoa, it was decided that they should be brought home 
"in triumph" at the national expense. After a troubled 
and protracted negotiation with the Piedmontese authori- 
ties, the prisoners were turned over to a duly-commissioned 
representative of the Irish Brigade committee. He char- 
tered a steamer and embarked the men for Cork, where they 
safely arrived on the 3d of November, 18G0. In anticipa- 
tion of this event I was requested to proceed to the southern 
port to arrange for their reception and the forwarding of 
them to their homes. But the citizens of Cork took the 
work very heartily into their own hands in great part. A • 
local "reception committee" was instantly formed, under 
the active presidency of Mr. J. F. Maguire, M.P., and prep- 



PAPAL IRELAND. 285 

arations set on foot for a general festive display. Had those 
men been victors on a hundred fields they could not have 
been welcomed with more flattering demonstrations. Bands 
played and banners waved ; the population turned out en 
masse ; addresses were presented and speeches delivered. In 
public procession, escorted by the local committee, compris- 
ing some of the principal citizens of Cork, the battalion 
marched to the several railway-stations, where, breaking up 
into parties destined for different localities, they separated, 
embracing and kissing one another in Continental style, 
quite affectionately. Nor did the demonstrations end here. 
At every town where a detachment alighted, crowds assem- 
bled, waving green boughs if flags could not be obtained, 
and escorted them on their homeward road. 

In this chapter of her history Ireland is to be seen and 
studied under the influences of overpowering religious emo- 
tion, or, as it might be less sympathetically said, "carried 
away by such blind and fanatical zeal for a religious chief as 
must mark a nation imbued with bigotry and intolerance." 
It is, however, a fact which ought to be intelligently contem- 
plated, that this people, so strongly Papal, so intensely Catho- 
lic, so violently opposed to "liberalism" or religious indif- 
ference, is, in civil affairs, perhaps the most liberal and tol- 
erant in the world. When, in the early part of the present 
century, it was proposed to "emancipate" Irish Catholics, 
that is, to admit them to seats in Parliament and to certain 
municipal and other official positions, the project was long 
resisted on the ground that a people so dogmatic or "big- 
oted " in their religion would instantly ostracize non-Catho- 
lics ; that, being in a vast majority all over Ireland, they 
would drive from public life all Protestant representatives of 
popular constituencies, making religion, not politics, a test 
in civil affairs. Not a far-fetched apprehension, assuredly. 
Long excluded from such civil rights and privileges, it would 
not have been very astonishing if the Irish Catholics, wher- 
ever they could command a parliamentary seat or a municipal * 



286 NEW IRELAND. 

honor, kept it for, or conferred it on, a man of their own 
faith, leaving non-Catholics, for whom the field had always 
been free, to the care of still powerful co-religionists. This 
was not the course which they adopted. They no sooner 
grasped these coveted honors and privileges than they has- 
tened to share them with their Protestant friends. From the 
day the Catholic Emancipation Act received the royal assent, 
in 1829, to this hour, the most Catholic constituencies in Ire- 
land have again and again returned Protestants to Parlia- 
ment, and have often so returned them in opposition to 
Catholics of less acceptable political views. Mr. Butt, Mr. 
Mitchell Henry, Mr. Blennerhassett, Mr. Whitworth, Mr. 
Gray, Lord Francis Conyngham, Mr. Parnell, Captain King 
Harman, and other Protestant gentlemen now sitting for 
Irish seats, are elected, as were their equally Protestant pre- 
decessors, by some of the most Ultramontane and Papal 
communities in Christendom ! 

This praiseworthy conduct, unfortunately, has as yet 
elicited no reciprocal action on the other side ; and the foes 
of bigotry and intolerance at one time trembled lest a fact 
so discouraging might ruin the generous experiment. In no 
single instance has an Irish Protestant constituency elected a 
Catholic to Parliament. Happily, the Catholic majority, 
refusing retaliation, hold on to the principle of doing what 
is right and wise and kindly. It will be a day of calamity 
for Ireland if ever the evil spirit of fanaticism shake them 
from that noble policy. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE FATE OF GLENVEIH. 

In the remote and wild northwest of Ireland, lashed by 
billows that roll from the frozen ocean, stands ancient Tyr- 
connell, better known to modern ears as the Donegal High- 
lands. There is probably no part of the island of equal ex- 
panse more self-contained, or separate, as it were, from the 
outer world. Nowhere else have the native population more 
largely preserved their peculiar features of life and character, 
custom and tradition, amidst the changes of the last two 
hundred years. 

The eastern portion of Donegal abounds in rich and fertile 
valleys, and is peopled by a different race. Two hundred 
and fifty years ago all of the soil that was fair to see, that 
seemed worth possessing, was handed o^er to "planters," 
or "undertakers." The native Celts were driven to the 
boggy wastes and trackless hills that were too poor or too 
remote for settlers to accept. Here, shut out from the busy 
world, their lowly lot shielding them from many a danger, 
the descendants of the faithful clansmen of " Dauntless Eed 
Hugh " lived on. Their life was toilsome, but they mur- 
mured not. Along the western shore, pierced by many a 
deep bay, or belted by wastes of sand, their little sheelings 
nestled alongside some friendly crag, while close at hand 
" the deep-voiced neighboring ocean " boomed eternally in 
sullen roar. 

The scenery, from Slieveleague to Malin Head, is wildly 
romantic, and in some places surpassingly beautiful. There 
are wide stretches of bleak and utter desolation, but ever and 

287 



288 NEW IRELAND. 

anon the eye is arrested and the fancy charmed by views 
which Alpine regions rarely excel. Lough Swilly — " the 
Lake of Shadows " — is one of the most picturesque ocean 
inlets on our coasts. It steals southward past Buncrana and 
historic Kathmullen, till it reaches Letterkenny on the one 
side, and lovely Fauhn on the other ; as if the sea had 
burst into a series of Tyrolean valleys. But there is not a 
scene among them all to match the weird beauty and savage 
grandeur of lone Glenveih ! 

The western, or Atlantic, shore of Donegal is indented by 
a narrow estuary, which penetrates some five or six miles in 
a northeasterly direction, until, at a place called Doochery, 
it meets the Gweebarra Eiver.* The gorge through which 
estuary and river flow is but the southwestern section of a 
singular chain of valleys, which reach in a direct line from 
Gweebarra Bay to Glen Lough, a distance of more than twenty 
miles. The middle section is Glenveih, so called ; or, as it 
ought to be, Glenbah, — the Glen of Silver Birches. It is 
truly a most romantic spot. The mountains rise boldly to a 
height of over a thousand feet on either side, and are clothed 
in great part with indigenous forest ; while sleeping calmly in 
the vale below, following its gentle windings, broadening and 
narrowing as the hills give room, is the lake, — Lough Veih. 

The mountain-district around is of the wildest character. 
Thirty years ago it was inhabited by a people such as one 
might meet amidst the crags of the Interthal or Passeyr, — 
sometimes passionate, always hospitable ; frugal, hardy, in- 
ured to toil. They eked out a poor existence less by their 
little farm-plots than by rearing on the mountains young 
stock, which at the suitable seasons they sold to the comfort- 
able and prosperous Presbyterian plantation-men of Kaphoe 
and Lifford districts. 

Little more than twenty years ago there chanced to pass 
through Derryveih,* as the immediate district is called, on 

* "Derryveih," " Loughveih," and " Glenveih " mean respectively 
the wood or forest, the lake, and the glen of silver birches. 



THE FATE OF GLENYEIH. 289 

sporting purposes bent, Mr. John George Adair, of Bellgrove, 
in Queen's County. He was so struck, he says, with the 
charms of the scenery, that he determined to become pro- 
prietor of the place. Between August, 1857, and May, 1858, 
he succeeded in purchasing a great part in fee-simple, and a 
fee-farm interest in a further portion. It was an evil day 
for the mountaineers when Mr. Adair first set eye on their 
home. Notwithstanding the storm of terrible accusations 
which that gentleman soon after poured upon them, and the 
disturbance, conflict, and crime which attended upon or 
arose out of his proprietorial proceedings, the fact is signifi- 
cant that at the period of his purchase, and even subse- 
quently, the Glenveih peasantry were on the best and kindli- 
est relations with their landlords, and that the surrounding 
gentry, and the clergy of all religious denominations, to the 
very last spoke and speak of them in terms of warmest 
sympathy and compassion. No sooner, however, does Mr. 
Adair enter on the scene - than a sad and startling change 
appears. The jricture drawn by the previous and surround- 
ing landlords, of a simple, kindly, and peaceable peasantry, 
gives way to one sketched by Mr. Adair of a lawless, violent, 
thieving, murderous gang, whose extirpation is a mission 
which has devolved on him in the interests of " society." 
The first act of the new landlord was ominous of what was 
to follow. The purchases were completed by the 30th of 
April, when what was called the Gartan estates passed to 
him from Mr. Cornwall. In May he began operations by 
the erection of a police-barrack, and close to it, under the 
cover of its guns, a " pound," — or prison for seized cattle. 
I know a little of Mr. Adair. He had been, if not a mem- 
ber of the Tenant League, a Tenant-Right candidate for 
Parliament in 1852. In these proceedings of his I have 
never regarded him as a man who coldly planned barbarity, 
or designed injustice, when he entered upon the career of 
landlord in Donegal. Nay, I incline to believe he meant to 
use kindly, according to his own ideas, the despotic power 
13 



290 NEW IRELAND. 

which he claimed. But a thwarted despot soon forgets be 
nevolent intentions, and thinks only of asserting his power 
and of crushing without mercy those who war against it. 
The police-barrack and the pound were the first indications 
of the spirit of Mr. Adair's rule. I am not aware that the 
old landlord had need of these institutions. The people at 
all events looked askance at them ; and on the threshold of 
his proceedings Mr. Adair was prejudiced in their eyes. 
The 21st of August found that gentleman on the hills, gun 
in hand, shooting over the lands upon which Mr. Johnson, 
the late landlord, was alone understood to possess the right 
of sporting. The tenants, headed by one James Oorrin, 
either by express order from Mr. Johnson or under some 
idea of duty toward him, resisted Mr. Adair's attempt to 
shoot over the lands, and a rather angry conflict or scuffle 
ensued. Mr. Adair indicted Corrin and the other tenants, 
for this " assault ;" but the real nature of the affray is suffi- 
ciently attested by the fact that on the 23d of October the 
grand jury threw out the bills, and next Michaelmas term 
Corrin — significantly enough, through the attorney of his 
landlord, Mr. Johnson — filed an action for assault and bat- 
tery and malicious prosecution against Mr. Adair. On the 
16th and 17th of February next year, 1859, the action came 
to trial before the Lord Chief Baron in Dublin. It resulted 
in a verdict that Mr. Adair had committed an assault, but 
that it had been in exercise of a lawful right of sporting. 
Next ensuing term Corrin served notice for a new trial in 
the superior courts, and so the litigation went on. 

Out of this dispute, this paltry quarrel of Mr. Adair with 
poor mountaineers defending, as they believed, the rights of 
an old landlord — sprang events that will never be forgotten 
in Donegal. 

From Easter to midsummer it was open war between the 
great man and the poor peasants, — the latter, however, being 
warmly befriended by the neighboring magistrates and land- 
lords, Colonel Humfrey especially. On the 2d of July Mr. 



THE FATE OF GLENVEIH. 291 

Adair had several of the tenants arrested and brought before 
him at Glenveih, the wretched people being marched sixty- 
miles to and from prisons ; yet five days afterward they were 
discharged by two resident and two local magistrates at Church 
Hill petty sessions. At length he determined to put himself, 
at any cost, in a position which would give him absolute do- 
minion over these audacious peasants. In October, 1859, he 
bought up the fee-farm interest of the remainder of Derry veih, 
eleven thousand nine hundred and fifty-six acres, through Mr. 
T. C. Trench, at a rent above the total payable by the tenants. 
By this time — between the purchase, on the 22d of August, 
1857, from Mr. Pitt Skipton, the 29th of April, 1858, from 
Colonel Humfrey and Mr. Johnson, the 30th of April, the 
Gartan estate from Mr. Cornwall, and the 10th of October, 
1859, from Mr. Johnson — he had become absolute monarch 
of nearly ninety square miles of country. This eager anxiety 
to buy more and more as time went on was assuredly incon- 
sistent with the idea subsequently put forward by Mr. Adair, 
that it was an affliction to him to be the landlord of such a 
people. 

Just about the time this gentleman appeared in those parts, 
Western Donegal was going through hard times and bitter 
conflict over " Scotch sheep." Some two or three of the pro- 
prietors had conceived the idea — or, more probably, had been 
weakly persuaded by Scotch farm-stewards — that fortunes 
might be made out of those wild mountains, now used solely 
by the cottiers for grazing a few goats, heifers, and sheep. 
By taking up the mountains wholly or in part from the peo- 
ple, and extensively stocking them with imported black- 
faced sheep, these landlords were led to believe that thousands 
a year might be cleared in profit. The attempt to deprive 
the people of the mountains led to deplorable conflict, suf- 
fering, and loss. The benevolent pretext of " squaring the 
farms " — sometimes, no doubt, genuine and well-meant mo- 
tive, but occasionally an excuse for dexterously cheating the 
people — did not avail. While the cottiers and the landlords 



293 NEW IRELAND. 

were fighting over the question, lo ! the Scotch shepherds! 
announced that the black-faced sheep were disappearing from 
the hills, — stolen by the hostile inhabitants, it was of course 
assumed. Search of the tenants' houses failed to verify this 
conclusion. Some few traces of such thefts were found here 
and there, but not in any extent to account for the disappear- 
ance of so many hundred sheep. Soon what had happened 
became more clear. The dead bodies of the sheep were found 
in scores all over the hills, — killed by the lawless natives, it 
was now concluded. Presentments for the value of the 
sheep thus assumed to have been " maliciously destroyed " 
were levied on the districts. Still the destruction, or rather 
the mysterious disappearance, of the sheep went on. The 
more it did, the more heavy the penalty was made ; and the 
more sweeping the presentments, the more extensive grew the 
destruction ! 

At last it occurred to one of the Crown officials that there 
was something suspicious in all this. He noted that whereas 
the sheep imported from Scotland cost from seven shillings 
and sixpence to ten shillings a head, on the mountain they 
were presented for at seventeen and sixpence to twenty-five 
shillings. It occurred to him that while this went on, sheep- 
losing would flourish. Suspicion once aroused, strange facts 
came to light. The houses of the shepherds themselves were 
searched, and mutton in rather too generous abundance was 
found. Then serious investigation was prosecuted, when it 
was incontestably established that the sheep had perished in 
large numbers from stress of weather, still. more extensively 
from falling over crags and precipices, and to some compara- 
tively small extent by the surreptitious supply of the shep- 
herds' tables. Shortly came the remarkable fact of the going 
judges of assize indignantly refusing to fiat these monstrous 
claims, and denouncing the whole proceedings.* Mirabile 

* August 1, 1860. After the verdict of the jury at Lifford assizes' 
had declared the sheep to have perished as I have described, the judge, 



THE FATE OF GLENVEIH. 293 

dictu, when the presentments were stopped, the black-faced 
sheep importation fell through ! 

But in the interval what suffering had been visited on the 
wretched people ! The "levies" had reduced them, poor as 
they were at best, to a plight which might have excited the 
compassion of a Kurd marauder. I traveled all the way 
from Dublin to investigate the facts for myself in the spring 
of 1858. I was much excited by all that I saw and heard, and 
I took an active, perhaps an angry, part in the public agita- 
tion which ensued. No Bulgarian hut after a raid of Bashi- 
bazouks, or Armenian hovel after a Cossack foray, could 
present a more wretched spectacle of desolation than did 
those Donegal sheelings after the levies had swept the dis- 
trict. Yet what the poor people seemed to feel as acutely as 
the seizure and carting off of their little stock — their heifers 
and goats, and pigs and poultry, nay, their bedsteads and 
pots and pans — was that they were held up to the world as 
thieves and sheep-stealers. I dare say some sheep had been 
stolen, but certainly not in any sense by- a general system or 
with popular sympathy. It seemed to me that some one or 
two undoubted instances of theft or destruction at the first 
suggested the evil system, which soon was adopted, of attrib- 
uting all the loss to the criminal conduct of the popula- 
tion. 

Mr. Adair, too, went in for black-faced sheep ; and of all 
the landlords who entered upon that sort of speculation he 
was the angriest at the lawless savagery (as he conceived) of 
the natives in this "malicious destruction." In January, 
1860, he had given "notice to quit" to his tenantry, but 
only, he told them, for the purpose of "squaring the farms." 
The loss of the sheep, following so closely on other causes of 
quarrel, brought things to an unhappy pass between him 
and the people. How the truth lay in the sheep question 

Chief -Justice Monahan, said, "I am as satisfied as I am of my very 
existence that those sheep were not maliciously killed." 



294 NEW IRELAND. 

may be inferred from the following official resolution of the 
assembled magistrates at Church Hill sessions : 

" The bench are unanimously of opinion that no sheep of Mr. Adair's 
were maliciously injured, or made away with ; and we find that through 
the constabulary sixty -sis sheep have been found dead from the in- 
clemency of the weather, as there was no mark of injury on them." 

But soon, unfortunately, he was to have still weightier 
cause for resentment, a more terrible impulsion to anger and 
passion. On the morning of the 13th of November, his 
manager, James Murray, left Glenveih Cottage. He was 
never seen alive afterward. On the 15th his body was found 
on the mountains, with marks of violence, which the 
coroner's jury declared to have been given by a murderer's 
hand. The only witness examined (besides a surgeon) was a 
Scotch assistant shepherd, Dugald Rankin ; and his bias 
against the Glenveih people was supposed to be strong.* 
Mr. Adair, as he gazed on the corpse of his servant, — mur- 
dered, as he verily believed, for stern discharge of his duties, 
— revolved in his mind a terrible determination. He grouped 
together a catalogue of, as it seemed to him, persistent and 
wide-spread crimes. Two of his dogs had been poisoned, 
though the presentment sessions refused to admit the act 
was malicious. An outhouse at G-artan Glebe was found to 
be on fire while he was a guest with the Rev. Mr. Maturin. 
Two hundred of his sheep had been killed on the mountains, 
though the magistrates would insist it was by accident or 
tempest. And now his manager had been foully slain. He 
would show these people that he could conquer. He would 
make them feel how terrible his vengeance could be. 

The resolution formed by Mr. Adair was to sweep away 
the whole population of Derryveih, chiefly concentrated, I 
believe, in a little hamlet on the Lough Gartan side of the 

* On the 1st of March Rankin was carried to jail at Strabane, for 
presenting a pistol at a man named Gallagher and wounding Constable 
Patrick Morgan. 



THE FATE OF GLENVEIH 295 

hill.* He applied for and received a special force of police 
to protect his herd and himself, in view of the desperate 
undertaking upon which he was now entering. A parlia- 
mentary return issued in May, 1861, makes some curious 
revelations as to Mr. Adair's quarrels with the executive in 
Dublin Castle over the cost and efficiency of this protective 
garrison. In truth, despite the heavy case he was able to 
adduce, the Government authorities, the local magistrates, 
the clergy, Protestant and Catholic, the police inspectors, all 
manifested clearly their sorrow, alarm, or resentment at the 
monstrous proceeding he contemplated, — nothing less than 
the expulsion of hundreds of innocent people, men and wo- 
men, the aged and the young, in vengeance for the crime of 
some undiscovered individual. The neighboring landlords 
seemed to regard him as a deadly combustible planted in 
their midst, a gentleman whose " sense of duty" had resulted 
in plunging their county into a condition which caused them 
vexation and uneasiness. The magistrates of the district, 
assembled at Church Hill, felt the situation so strongly that 
they passed the following resolution : 

" Resolved, That the outrages complained of have, in our opinion, 
arisen from causes unconnected with any matter having relation to the 
adjoining estates, hitherto and now in a state of perfect tranquility." 

Mr. Dillon, the resident magistrate, writing to the Under- 
Secretary for Ireland, Sir Thomas Larcom, asks, " Is it my 
duty and that of the police to stand by and give protection 
while the houses are being leveled ?" The Protestant rector, 
the Rev. Mr. Maturin, writing to the Dublin Daily Express 
after Mr. Adair's vengeance had been wreaked, says, — 

" The presumption is as strong that the persons who committed the 
murder were not connected with the district. ... I could mention 
other reasons certainly suspicious and somewhat mysterious. . . . 

* Derryveih Mountain divides the two lakes of Lough Glenveih, or 
Loughveih, and Lough Derryveih, or Lough Gartan. At Gartan, St. 
Columba, or Columbkille, was born, a.d. 521. 



296 NEW IRELAND. 

What would be Mr. Adair's feelings if it were found out hereafter that 
the murder was committed by persons in no way connected with the 
Derryveigh tenantry now exterminated on account of it, and whose 
wailings might then, without avail, forever ring in his ears ? " 

Indeed, although the hapless mountaineers were, I believe, 
exclusively Catholic, this kindly-hearted and estimable Prot- 
estant clergyman flung himself into the forefront of every 
effort to save them. He and the Catholic priest of the dis- 
trict, the Eev. Mr. Kair, drew up and forwarded to Mr. 
Adair a joint letter, in which they felt confident they would 
not appeal in vain to his mercy. They bore the strongest 
testimony to the virtuous character and the kindly and peace- 
able nature of the threatened people, whom they had known 
all their lives, and emphatically denied that any suspicion of 
complicity in Murray's murder could justly be laid against 
them. Mr. Adair's reply was stern and inexorable. He re- 
cited all the outrages, real and fancied. With the deepest 
regret for what he considered a necessity, he was determined 
to evict the inhabitants of that part of the property. Some 
of known good character he would not disturb. To such as 
had brought good characters from the reverend appellants he 
had offered mountain-holdings, with leases, elsewhere. I 
need follow his plea no further. The man who conceives 
himself to be " a savior of society" has a pious justification 
for any extremity of conduct. 

News of the storm about to burst upon them reached the 
people early in February, 1861. Some realized its terrible 
import ; but the majority did not. As a matter of fact, up 
to the hour of the evictions, few of them would believe that 
such a menace would or could be carried out. In this remote 
and lonely region nothing they had ever heard suggested the 
possession of such a power by any one. They owed no rent. 
They had done no man wrong. Mr. Adair, on the 4th of 
February, called into Dublin Castle, and there quietly swore 
an information, that being about to serve ejectment-notices 
on his tenants, he believed the life of the bailiff would be un- 



THE FATE OF GLENVEIH. 297 

safe without an armed escort. The resident magistrate, Mr. 
Considine, who gave the escort, says the ejectments "were 
served by Mr. Adair's gamekeeper without the least hindrance 
being offered by the tenantry." In fact, it is curious to no- 
tice the fatal calm which hung over the valley itself, while, 
unknown to its doomed people, the "outer world" — the 
magistrates and police officials, nay, the executive in Dublin 
— were in no little excitement and apprehension as the evil 
day drew near. The correspondence between the various offi- 
cials and public departments as to the drafting and concen- 
tration of police detachments and military companies, fills 
several pages of a blue-book. The dispositions and arrange- 
ments were almost as formidable as if Derryveigh had to be 
stormed and carried from an intrenched army. Mr. Cruik- 
shank, the sub-sheriff, writing to Sir Thomas Larcom, Un- 
der-Secretary, says that besides two hundred constabulary 
being drafted from various parts, he will require some mili- 
tary with tents and baggage to be sent from Dublin : 

" I have therefore to request that one officer and thirty rank and file 
be ordered to meet me at Lough Barra, on Monday the 8th instant, at 
twelve o'clock, in aid of the civil power. If the party leave Dublin by 
rail on Friday morning, they will reach Strabane at four o'clock, wait 
there that night ; march nest day to Letterkenny, a distance of four- 
teen Irish miles, rest there Sunday, and meet me and the constabulary 
early on Monday. As it is likely the force will be employed Monday 
and Tuesday and part of Wednesday, I would suggest for your consid- 
eration the prudence, if not necessity, of the soldiers being provided 
with tents, as it will be impossible in a mountain-country such as Glen- 
veih to get for them accommodation for the night ; and after remaining 
some time under arms they could not march back to Letterkenny, 
nearly ten Irish miles, and return the next day." 

On the night of Sunday the 7th of April the several de- 
tachments had closed in around the place, occupying or com- 
manding the only available entrances or passes. Still the 
hapless people, in fatal confidence, slumbered on. It was 
like the sleep of the Macdonalds on the night before Glen- 
coe. 

13* 



298 NEW IRELAND. 

In the early morning of Monday, the 8th of April, 1861, 
the sight of the red-coats and the glitter of bayonets at the 
southern entrance to the valley gave signal of alarm ; and 
from house to house, and hill to hill, along Lough Gartan 
side, a halloo was sent afar. Soon there rose on the morning 
air a wail that chilled even the sternest heart. The poor 
people came out of their cabins in groups, and looked 
at the approaching force, and there burst from the women 
and children a cry of agony that pierced the heavens. 
The special correspondent of the Derry Standard, a leading 
Presbyterian journal in the neighboring county, gives the 
following account of what he saw : "The first eviction was 
one peculiarly distressing, and the terrible reality of the law 
suddenly burst with surprise on the spectators. Having 
arrived at Loughbarra, the police were halted, and the sheriff, 
with a small escort, proceeded to the house of a widow named 
M'Award, aged sixty years, living with whom were six 
daughters and a son. Long before the house was reached 
loud cries were heard piercing the air, and soon the figures 
of the poor widow and her daughters were observed outside 
the house, where they gave vent to their grief in strains of 
touching agony. Forced to discharge an unpleasant duty, 
the sheriff entered the house and delivered up possession to 
Mr. Adair's steward, whereupon six men, who had been 
brought from a distance, immediately fell to to level the 
house to the ground. The scene then became indescribable. 
The bereaved widow and her daughters were frantic with 
despair. Throwing themselves on the ground they became 
almost insensible, and bursting out in the old Irish wail, — 
then heard by many for the first time, — their terrifying cries 
resounded along the mountain-side for many miles. They 
had been deprived of the little spot made dear to them by 
associations of the past, and, with bleak poverty before them, 
and only the blue sky to shelter them, they naturally lost all 
hope, and those who witnessed their agony will never forget 
the sight. No one could stand by unmoved. Every heart 



THE FATE OF GLENVEIH. 299 

was touched, and tears of sympathy flowed from many. In 
a short time we withdrew from the scene, leaving the widow 
and her orphans surrounded by a small group of neigh- 
bors, who could only express their sympathy for the home- 
less, without possessing the power to relieve them. During 
that and the next two days the entire holdings in the lands 
mentioned above were visited, and it was not until an ad- 
vanced hour on Wednesday the evictions were finished. In 
all the evictions the distress of the poor people was equal to 
that depicted in the first case. Dearly did they cling to their 
homes till the last moment, and while the male population 
bestirred themselves in clearing the houses of what scanty 
furniture they contained, the women and children remained 
within till the sheriff's bailiff warned them out, and even 
then it was with difficulty they could tear themselves away 
from the scenes of happier days. In many cases they bade 
an affectionate adieu to their former peaceable but now des- 
olate homes. One old man near the fourscore years and ten 
on leaving his house for the last time reverently kissed the 
door-posts, with all the impassioned tenderness of an emigrant 
leaving his native land. His wife and children followed his 
example, and in agonized silence the afflicted family stood 
by and watched the destruction of their dwelling. In another 
case an old man, aged ninety, who was lying ill in bed, was 
brought out of the house in order that formal possession 
might be taken, but readmitted for a week to permit of his 
removal. In nearly every house there was some one far ad- 
vanced in age, — many of them tottering to the grave, — while 
the sobs of helpless children took hold of every heart. When 
dispossessed, the families grouped themselves on the ground 
beside the ruins of their late homes, having no place of 
refuge near. The dumb animals refused to leave the wall- 
steads, and in some cases were with difficulty rescued from 
the falling timbers. As night set in, the scene became fear- 
fully sad. Passing along the base of the mountain the spec- 
tator might have observed near to each house its former 



300 NEW IRELAND. 

inmates crouching round a turf fire close by a hedge ; and 
as a drizzling rain poured upon them they found no cover, 
and were entirely exposed to it, — but only sought to warm 
their famished bodies. Many of them were but miserably 
clad, and on all sides the greatest desolation was apparent. 
I learned afterward that the great majority of them lay out 
all night, either behind the hedges or in a little wood which 
skirts the lake ; they had no other alternative. I believe 
many of them intend resorting to the poorhouse. There 
these poor starving people remain on the cold bleak moun- 
tains, no one caring for them, whether they live or die. 'Tis 
horrible to think of, but more horrible to behold." 

This news reached me in Dublin. I had been striving 
hard for these poor people. I had, especially since my visit 
to a neighboring district three years before, felt the deepest, 
the most earnest interest in them. I am not ashamed to say, 
even now, that I wept like a child. But idle weeping could 
avail nothing for the victims. What should we do now ? 
They must not perish. They must be saved. So vowed 
some friends who felt as deeply as I did their unmerited 
fate. Public opinion was stirred to its depths by this terrible 
event. Our journals called at once for public aid, and it 
was promptly forthcoming. A local committee of relief 
was organized, and an appeal to Christian hearts all over 
the world was issued. This remarkable document bore the 
signatures of the Catholic bishop, the most Eev. Dr. Mc- 
Gettigan ; the Episcopalian Protestant rector, Eev. Mr. Ma- 
turin ; the Presbyterian minister, Eev. Mr. Jack ; and the 
Catholic parish priest, Eev. Mr. Kair. It told the whole 
story, and refuted in warm language the aspersions and accu- 
sations that had been used as a pretext for the desolation. 
The appeal was most liberally answered at home. Men of 
all ranks and classes, creeds and parties, poured in their con- 
tributions. But the crowning act of rescue was the work of 
Irishmen far away under the Southern Cross. The (Aus- 
tralian) Donegal Celtic Belief Committee, established in Mel- 



THE FATE OF QLENVEIH. 301 

bourne, — mainly by the exertions of the late Hon. Michael 
O'Grady, M.L.C., to whom I had early written on the sub- 
ject, — decided to bring out to " happy homes and altars 
free " these victims of a heartless wrong. Ample funds were 
at once supplied, and an official agent of the Victorian Gov- 
ernment was dispatched to make special arrangements in 
conjunction with the local committee in Ireland for effecting 
this generous purpose. The news created a great sensation 
in Donegal. The poor people were sought out and collected. 
Some by this time had sunk beneath their sufferings. One 
man, named Bradley, had lost his reason under the shock. 
Other cases Avere nearly as heart-rending. There were old 
men who would keep wandering over the hills in view of 
their ruined homes, full of the idea that some day Mr. Adair 
might let them return, but who at last had to be borne to the 
distant workhouse hospital to die. With a strange mixture 
of joy and sadness the survivors heard that friends in Aus- 
tralia had paid their way to a new and better land. On the 
day they were to set out for the railway-station, en route for 
Liverpool, a strange scene was witnessed. The cavalcade 
was accompanied by a concourse of neighbors and sympa- 
thizers. They had to pass within a short distance of the 
ancient burial-ground, where "the rude forefathers" of the 
valley slept. They halted, turned aside, and proceeded to 
the grass-grown cemetery. Here in a body they knelt, flung 
themselves on the graves of their relatives, which they rev- 
erently kissed again and again, and raised for the last time 
the Irish caoine or funeral wail. Then — some of them pull- 
ing tufts of grass which they placed in their bosoms — they 
resumed their way on the road to exile. At Dublin I saw 
them as they halted between the arrival of their train and 
the departure of the 'cross-Channel boat for Liverpool. As 
they marched through the streets to a restaurant, where din- 
ner had been provided for them, they excited the greatest 
curiosity and interest. "The emigrants, male and female," 
said one of the city papers, "presented an appearance well 



302 NEW IRELAND. 

calculated to excite admiration and sympathy. A finer body 
of men and women never left any country. In stature tall, 
with handsome and well-shaped features full of kindly ex- 
pression, they filled the breast of every spectator with regret 
that such a people should be lost to us forever." They were 
being accompanied as far as Liverpool by the Eev. James 
McFadden, a fine-hearted young priest who had labored de- 
votedly for them from the first hour of their misfortunes. I 
quote from the same journal the following account of his 
farewell address, a scene which it was impossible to behold 
unmoved : 

" When dinner had concluded, Rev. Mr. McFadden, amidst the most 
solemn stillness, briefly addressed the assemblage ; and it was a most 
touching sight. He spoke in the Gaelic tongue, the language of their 
homes and firesides ere Adair had leveled the one and quenched the 
other forever. As the young priest spoke, his own voice full of emotion, 
the painful silence all around soon became broken by the sobs of women, 
and tears flowed freely down many a cheek. He reminded them that 
was their last meal partaken of on Irish soil ; that in a few hours they 
would have left Ireland forever. He spoke of their old homes amidst 
the Donegal hills ; of the happy days passed in the now silent and deso- 
late valley of Derryveih ; of the peace and happiness that they had 
known then, because they were contented, and were free from tempta- 
tions and dangers of which the busy world was full. He reminded them 
of their simple lives ; the Sunday mass, so regularly attended ; the con- 
fession ; the consolations of faith. Many a cheek was wet as he alluded 
to how they would be missed by the priest whose flock they were. 
But most of all their lot was sorrowful in the fact that, while other 
emigrants left behind them parents and relatives over whom the old 
roof -tree remained, they, alas ! left theirs under no shelter of a home ; 
they left them wanderers and outcasts, trusting to workhouse fare or 
wayside charity. But (said he) you are going to a better land, a free 
country where there are no tyrants, because there are no slaves. 
Friends have reached out their hands to you ; those friends await you 
on the shore of that better land. And here, too, in this city, hearts 
equally true and kindly have met you. Let your last word on Irish 
ground be to thank the good gentleman who now stands by my side, 
Mr. Alexander M. Sullivan. He it is who has, amidst all his numer. 
ous cares of business, found time to make these arrangements to meet 
your wants and make you comfortable in passing through this city. 



THE FATE OF OLENVEIH. 303 

Busy as this day has been with him, there he was to meet us at the 
train, and here he has been attending to you as if you were members 
of his own family. But it is only part of a long work of goodness 
done for the people of Donegal since first on that memorable Christmas 
Eve he raised the first call for our relief. He has never since taken 
his hand from the work he began that day. Let us, with our last 
words, thank him and his friends who have met us this evening 
and cared for us so well. And now, dear brothers, we shall be depart- 
ing. Before you take your foot off your native land, promise me here 
that you will, above all things, be faithful to your God, and attend to 
your religious duties, under whatever circumstances you may be placed 
(sobs, and cries of "We will, we will "). Never neglect your night 
and morning prayers, and never omit to approach the Blessed Euchar- 
ist at least at Christmas and Easter. And, boys, don't forget poor old 
Ireland (intense emotion, and cries of " Never — never, God knows !") 
don't forget the old people at home, boys. Sure they will be count- 
ing the days till a letter comes from you. And they'll be praying 
for you, and we will all pray God be with you." 



Standing on the quay at Dublin I bade these poor people 
a last adieu, and prayed that God might requite them under 
happier skies for the cruel calamities that had befallen them 
at home. Six months later Mr. O'Grady wrote to me a de- 
tailed account of their progress. Every one of them was 
" doing well," he said ; " a credit to the old land." 

In the autumn of last year I revisited Donegal. I sat 
upon the shore of that lonely lake, and looked down the 
shadowed valley. On a jutting point, beneath the lofty 
slope of the wooded mountain, Mr. Adair has built a castle. 
It may be that the charms which Selkirk could not discover 
in solitude delight him in " this desolate place." No doubt 
" the enchanting beauty " which he said first drew him to 
the spot is unimpaired to the view : Glenveih is and ever 
will be beautiful. But for my part, as I gazed upon the 
scene, my sense of enjoyment was mingled with memories 
full of pain. My thoughts wandered back to that terrible 
April morning on Gartan side. In fancy I heard rolling 
across those hills the widow's wail, the women's parting cry. 



304 NEW IRELAND. 

I thought of the farewell at the graves, of the crowd upon 
the fore-deck of that steamer. Again I marked their tears, 
their sobs. Once more, above the paddle's plash and the 
seamen's bustling shout, I thought I heard the wafted prayer 
of " God be with Glenveih 1" 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 

The easy suppression of the Phoenix conspiracy in 1858 
led to many false conclusions. Every one assumed that there 
was an end of the affair. Many treated it with great deri- 
sion. The prisoners were now discharged. The attempt to 
prepare the way for revolution by a secret society had ap- 
parently failed and been abandoned. So fully were I and 
many others under this impression that we felt very wroth 
because that at the moment we were pleading with the 
Crown authorities in behalf of the prisoners, some Irishmen 
in New York were indulging in vaunt and defiance calcu- 
lated to alarm and irritate the Government. Had there 
been knowledge or suspicion that the movement was not 
then relinquished, no such appeals would have been made, 
and assuredly none would have succeeded. Even some of 
the men erstwhiles enrolled in the Phcenix Society fully be- 
lieved the project was irretrievably exploded. All, however, 
were under a great delusion. 

A condition of things had now and for the first time 
arisen which was to exercise potential influence ever after- 
ward in Irish affairs. Hitherto the base of operations in 
rebellious or seditious attempts had been within the country 
itself. The Government were always able to strike the 
movement at its heart. Now, for the first time, a base of 
operations had been established out of Ireland. Not soon 
did people realize what an enormous difference this made in 
dealing with Irish disaffection. While Dublin city was the 
headquarters of the malcontents, their plans, their persons, 

305 



306 NEW IRELAND. 

their fate and fortunes were any day within the grasp of the 
Crown. Not so when America became the base, and New 
York headquarters. The Queen's writ did not run in Man- 
hattan. 

The failure of the "Phoenix" attempt in Ireland was, 
therefore regarded by the American organizers as merely the 
misfire of a first cartridge. They would lie still for a while, 
and go to work again. 

A revolutionary secret society, skillfully handled, is certainly 
a terrible power. It has enormous advantages. It can mingle 
in and use all other organizations. It can demoralize opposing 
ranks by subtle devices. It can claim an extent of dominion 
and resource which no one can test or measure, and which no 
one therefore can venture to dispute or contradict. The pub- 
lic man marked out for its hostility can be struck without 
the power of returning a blow. He ean feel that he is being 
assailed, yet may not see or grapple with his adversaries. 

I was for several years fated to realize this fact, to expe- 
rience its truth and force in my own case. Apart from the 
antagonism which any one conducting the Nation — as the 
organ of the O'Brien and Gavan Duffy party, or Grattan 
Nationalists — was sure to incur from the Separatist leaders, 
I early fell under their special displeasure. From under- 
rating the influence of the Nation Mr. Stephens passed to, 
as I think, overrating it. He considered, or pretended to 
consider, that it was the remonstrances of the Nation that 
had alone put down his Phcenix attempt. He was a man 
who always blamed somebody else — never himself — for any- 
thing that befel his plans. As Mr. O'Connor, Dr. Mulcahy, 
Mr. Devoy, and many other of his colleagues have since very 
bitterly proclaimed, absolute and implicit belief in him, in 
his unerring sagacity and all-conquering ability, was the 
basis of the system he propounded. He very cleverly averted 
reproach from himself as to the fate of his first endeavor by 
steadily inculcating the story that it was Sullivan and the 
Nation that did it all. From his point of view the resolu- 



THE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 307 

tion he thereupon came to was, at any rate, intelligible. It 
was that in order to succeed the next time, Sullivan and the 
Nation, and indeed the whole nuisance of constitutional 
politics, must be put down. The Duffy policy had had its 
fair trial from 1850 to 1853 ; the constitutional Nationalists 
ought now to stand aside and yield the field to men who were 
ready with a bolder scheme. In one way, and one way only, 
could Ireland be saved, — by force of arms. Every effort, 
word, or suggestion that distracted the people from this one 
object was held to be criminal, a thing to be crushed with the 
strong hand. Newspapers, meetings, speeches, public soci- 
eties, or organizations were declared to be pernicious in the 
highest degree. In fine, every outlet of public opinion was 
to be stopped, every utterance forbidden ; every energy was 
to be concentrated upon the one great purpose of conspiracy. 

With these sentiments, principles, and purposes, Mr. Ste- 
phens set himself to the task of reconstructing his shattered 
organization. 

Although most of the National leaders best known to the 
Irish people — the chiefs of the "Forty-eight" movement — 
held aloof from or censured this scheme, its authors were 
fortunate in obtaining for it the co-operation of a few men 
whose rare abilities and invincible courage and fidelity ren- 
dered them of priceless value in such a movement. Fore- 
most among these must be named Charles J. Kickham, John 
O'Leary, and Thomas Clarke Luby. 

Charles Kickham was originally intended for the medical 
profession, as indeed were Messrs. O'Leary and Luby. He 
belonged to a family occupying a respectable position in Mul- 
linahone, county Tipperary ; one greatly esteemed and trusted 
by the people for miles around. From his youth Charles 
was a popular favorite. In the hottest of the conflicts which 
marked the public course of the Fenian movement, he was 
the one man of his party for whom even the fiercest anti- 
Fenian had a kindly feeling and a friendly word. A lament- 
able accident blighted his prospects of success in a professional 



308 - NEW IRELAND. 

career. He was fond of sporting. One evening, after a day 
on the hills with dog and gun, in the course of which he 
received a serious drenching, he sat before the fire drying the 
contents of his powder-flask, that had got damp. As he was 
stirring or examining the powder, a spark from the peat fire 
exploded it in his face. He lay long in great suffering, and 
it was thought he would totally lose his sight. When he re- 
covered, his hearing was to a great extent destroyed, and his 
sight considerably impaired. * This calamity only intensified 
the feelings of the people for young Charles. He became 
studious, took to literary pursuits, and contributed to a little 
periodical called The Celt some really exquisite poetry of the 
simple ballad class, as well as some stories of Irish peasant 
life exhibiting considerable dramatic power. Those who 
knew his gentle amiable nature, his modest and retiring 
character, his undemonstrative ways, marveled greatly to 
find him in the forefront of such an enterprise as the Fenian 
movement. It was, however, only when it took to jour- 
nalism that Kickham was called upon to assume a post of 
prominence. 

John O'Leary was unquestionably one of the ablest and 
most remarkable men in the conspiracy. Intellectually and 
politically he was of the type of Wolfe Tone, Eobert Emmet, 
and John Mitchel. An eye-witness describing him in the 
dock, when on his trial in 1865, says, "He stepped to the 
front with a flash of fire in his dark eyes, and a scowl on his 
features, looking hatred and defiance on judges, lawyers, 
jurymen, and all the rest of them. All eyes were fixed on 
him ; for he was one of those persons whose exterior attracts 
attention and indicates a character above the common. He 
was tall, slightly built, and of gentlemanly deportment. 
Every feature of his thin angular face gave token of great 

* The white dust and glare of the sun in the Portland convict quar- 
ries have, I regret to say, almost totally ruined his sight ; and when 
last I met him his hearing was so far gone that it was by the manual 
alphabet he was spoken to, although he replied by voice as usual. 



THE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 309 

intellectual energy and determination ; its pallid hue was 
rendered almost death-like by contrast with his long black 
hair and flowing moustache and beard. Easy it was to see 
that when the Government placed John O'Leary in the dock 
they had caged a proud spirit and an able and resolute 
enemy." He was born in Tipperary town, of a family hold- 
ing a good position, and inherited on the death of his 
parents, to his share, a small property of some three or four 
hundred pounds a year. He was a graduate of the Queen's 
University, having taken out his medical degree in the 
Queen's College, Cork. He resided for some time in Paris, 
where his mind, his tastes, his manners, opinions, and prin- 
ciples received impress and shape discernible in his subse- 
quent career. He also visited America, and there formed 
the acquaintance of the men who were planning and devis- 
ing the Fenian movement. He was a man of culture, and 
of considerable literary abilities. I met him on a few occa- 
sions at the house of Dr. Kevin Izod O'Doherty, whose wife, 
the poetess "Eva," was his cousin. He was reserved, sen- 
tentious, almost cynical ; keenly observant, sharply critical, 
full of restrained passion. 

Thomas Clarke Luby was also a native of Tipperary ; but, 
unlike his colleagues, he was a Protestant ; his uncle, the 
Eev. Dr. Luby, being one of the Senior Fellows of Trinity 
College, Dublin. Mr. Luby was no new hand at seditious 
effort. Young as he was in 1848, he was then an active 
member of what may be called the extreme revolutionist, or 
Mitchelite, party. From 1849 to 1854 he occupied himself 
occasionally as a contributor to the press, and sometimes as 
a collegiate tutor. In 1855 he became associate editor of 
the Irish Tribune, a semi-revolutionary journal, which the 
late Mason Jones and other advanced Irish Nationalists pub- 
lished for some short time in Dublin. His politics were a 
great affliction to relatives who were in a position to advance 
him, and who would have done so if he would but give up 
such dangerous doctrines. He preferred to struggle on for 



310 NEW IRELAND. 

himself, holding by his principles, such as they were. This 
course he pursued unfalteringly to the last. 

On the American side the movement was projected under 
the direction of John O'Mahony, Michael Doheny, and Col- 
onel Corcoran, of the Sixty-ninth (Irish) New York regi- 
ment, — the first-named being supreme. The original plan, 
described already in 'Donovan Eossa's words, was still pur- 
sued. The Irish in America were to be enrolled in " circles," 
or groups, like the Irish at home. But the functions of the 
former were chiefly to supply "the home organization," as 
it was called, with funds, arms, and military commanders. 
Later on the American section decided furthermore to co- 
operate with the home movement by an attack on the British 
dominions near at hand, and by the dispatch of privateers. 
Each "circle " was presided over by an officer called a center. 
Mr. O'Mahony was Head Center. He it was who designated 
his branch of the organization by the name of "Fenians." 
He was much given to Gaelic studies, and lived or dreamed 
a great deal in ancient Ireland.* The Irish national militia 
seventeen centuries ago were called the "Fiana Erion," or 
Fenians, from Fenius, Fin, or Fion, their famous command- 
er. After this force O'Mahony called the Irish-American en- 
rollment. Mr. Stephens, however, preferred for the home sec- 
tion the name of " Irish Eevolutionary Brotherhood ; " short- 
ened into "the I. K. B.," by which brief designation it was 
generally referred to by the members. In Ireland the enroll- 
ment also was in circles or groups ; the officers being styled 
A's, B's, and C's, according to their rank. Mr. Stephens 
exercised supreme and absolute authority in the home organ- 
ization. His official title was the "C. 0. I. E.," or Central 
Organizer of the Irish Republic. He willed and declared a 
republic to be erected in Ireland ; and, accordingly, the oath 
of initiation bound each member to yield allegiance to "the 



* He executed the admirable translation of Keatings's " History of 
Ireland," published by Haverty of New York. 



THE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 311 

Irish republic now virtually established."* When a person 
authorized by him had sworn in not more than fifty members 
in a locality, they were constituted a "circle," of which such 
person then became the B or Center. In due time it would 
be his duty, when the C. 0. I. E. sent him a drill-master, to 
see that his men were safely and secretly taught military ex- 
ercises. Meanwhile he and his circle were to act in a gen- 
eral way for the furtherance of the movement, — by organiz- 
ing new circles, by discouraging and repressing public meet- 
ings of a "distracting" character, and by putting down 
public men or journals who in any way hindered or opposed 
the organization. 

There were in 1858, on the starting of this enterprise, 
several Irish-American newspapers ardently devoted to the 
cause of Irish nationality. In New York city alone there 
were at least two ; one was the Irish News, established by 
Thomas Francis Meagher ; the other the Irish American, 
then, as now, the leading organ of Irish Nationalism in the 
United States. Even with these journals the Fenian leaders 
quarreled as strongly as with the Nation ; so they decided 
to establish a special organ of the movement, which accord- 
ingly appeared as the Phcenix newspaper, in New York. 
In this journal they struck out vigorously, right, left, and 
center, at everything and everybody supposed to be inimical 
to their undertaking. They had no need to waste words in 
rousing the ire of their readers against England. The Irish 
in America — the maddened fugitives of the dreadful famine 
and eviction times — hated the British power with quench- 
less hate. The obstacles that most concerned the secret 
leaders arose from the opposition given to their scheme by 
the Catholic clergy and the open-policy or anti-Fenian Na- 
tionalists. The Catholic Church condemns oath-bound 

* Very evidently many of the rank and file were not quite clear as to 
what the word "virtually" meant ; for much merriment arose during 
some of the trials when the approvers declared they were sworn to 
ohey " the Irish republic now virtuously established." 



312 NEW IRELAND. 

secret societies, — especially if directed to the subversion of 
the civil power or the overthrow of religion, — for several 
reasons. First, regarding the sanctity of an oath, it denies 
that any one who chooses can, for any purpose he pleases, 
formally administer or impose that solemn obligation. 
Secondly, having regard to the safety of society, of public 
order, of morals and religion, it prohibits the erection of any 
such barrier between the objects and operations of a society, 
and authoritative examination and judgment. Over this 
critical and important issue the Fenian movement, on its 
very threshold, was plunged into a bitter war with the eccles- 
iastical authorities of the Catholic Church. "The priest 
has no right to interfere in or dictate our politics," said the 
Fenian leaders ; "ours is a political movement; they must 
not question us or impede us." "You cannot be admitted 
to the sacraments until you give up and repent of illicit 
oaths," responded the Catholic priests; "and if you con- 
tumaciously continue in membership of an oath-bound se- 
cret society, you are liable to excommunication." "Do 
you hear this ? — we are cursed by the Church for loving our 
country ! " exclaimed the Fenians ; and so for the first five 
years, from 1860 to 1865, the struggle between the Catholic 
clergy and the Fenian organizers was fierce, violent, and 
unsparing. A really active " B," or Fenian center, had 
need to be a man who cared little for the priest's denuncia- 
tions, and who could persuade the people it was "the May- 
nooth oath and the gold of England" that made Father 
Tom so ready to "curse" the cause. The priests, accord- 
ingly, complained that the propagators of Fenianism were 
men who paid little regard to clerical authority aud shunned 
the practices of faith. One can see how out of antagonistic 
views thus pressed the quarrel eventuated in the Fenians 
denouncing the priests as deadly foes of Irish nationality, 
and the priests denouncing the Fenians as enemies of the 
Church, — men who would overthrow the altar and destroy 
society. 



THE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 313 

Very similar was the conflict between the secret organiza- 
tion and the non-Fenian or anti-Fenian Nationalists ; the 
great object of the Fenian leaders being that the people 
should have no alternative patriotic effort between embrac- 
ing their enterprise and siding with imperial subjugation. 
Indeed, a reference to the pages of the Fenian newspapers, 
and to the public chronicles of the period, will show that the 
movement during the four years following 1860 was directed 
less against the English Government than against those Irish 
Nationalists, priests and layman, whose influence was sup- 
posed to impede the organization. 

The official organ, or gazette, thus established in New 
York, waged war all round, and roused up antagonisms in- 
numerable. A weekly column, or department, was devoted 
to a "Hue and Cry," giving descriptions of "informers" 
and other obnoxious persons to be looked after, — a hint not 
likely to be neglected on the other side of the Atlantic. 
Here is a sample : 

" ROCK'S HUE-AND-CRY. 

"THE BLACK LIST. 

" Callaghan, Pat, Callan, county Kilkenny. — Five feet six in 
height ; stout, and squarely built ; 27 years of age ; supposed to be in 
New Zealand. 

"Carol an, Ballynahinch, county Down. — Five feet seven in 
height ; 60 years of age ; blue eyes, gray hair, and long, thin fea- 
tures ; supposed to be prowling round Belfast. 

" William Everitt ... is about 45 years of age, five feet ten 
inches in height, with a lank body, apparently possessing the flexi- 
bility of a bamboo, and suggesting the idea that it was with reluct- 
ance Nature threw him on the earth as an incumbrance. . . . Poor 
wretch ! Nature, at his birth, was niggard of her bounties. He may 
depend on it, Rock has a long memory, and that his police are watch- 
ful of the movements of the spy. 

" Michael Burke. — The fellow needs no further notice from 
Rock. He is mad, and lodged in a Dr. Osborne's asylum. Number 
One — What a grim moral follows the history of his ' information ! ' 
14 



314 NEW IRELAND. 

Had he not sold himself for gold, he would have been to-day in no 
lunatic asylum." 

There were every week official "Decrees" and "General 
Orders ; " and a secret committee with an ominous name, the 
"Committee of Public Safety," was charged to mark all 
men who had "striven to injure the organization by word 
or deed." Much more serious was the fact that, for the first 
time in Irish annals, assassination was publicly lauded as a 
patriotic duty. "With horror we read such articles as the 
following : 

" At home there is no bold voice raised from press or pulpit against 
the extermination of the people. There are complaints innumer- 
able, — there are remonstrances and arguments to show it is wrong, 
ruinous, inexpedient to shovel the people from their holdings into the 
poorhouse and ditches ; but it is folly to argue the question, more 
especially when the press designates as foul, atrocious murder the 
slaying of one of those arch exterminators who is to the district he 
owns as a wild beast at large. It is only by retaliation and reprisal 
that tbe Irish landlord can be brought to a sense of justice. Every- 
thing else is unavailing." 

This language of the official organ was followed up by a 
newspaper in California published by a Mr. Thomas Mooney. 
He weekly advertised a reward of one hundred pounds for 
any one who would murder a particular gentleman in the 
county Mayo, whom he pointed out by name. About this 
time a man named Beckham, an infamous wretch who mur- 
dered for hire, was hanged for the assassination of a Mr. 
Fitzgerald in the county Limerick under the most brutal 
circumstances. Mooney, in an article abusing the degenerate 
and feeble National leaders in Ireland, — Smith O'Brien and 
Sullivan of the Nation in particular, — declared that "one 
Beckham was worth fifty Smith O'Briens." What Ireland 
wanted was men who would not shrink from Beckham's work. 
I am convinced that the men in Ireland on whom subse- 
quently fell the penalty of membership in the Fenian or- 
ganization would be incapable of approving these incentives ; 



TEE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 315 

but they made no sign and spoke no word in public at the 
time to save the ancient and honorable cause of Irish na- 
tionality from identification with them. For me, in view of 
public teachings like these, put forward in the name of Irish 
patriotism, silence was impossible. In the Nation I gave 
utterance, no doubt very strongly, to the indignation which 
I felt, and declared for myself, and those whom I might be 
held to represent, that we would rather see Ireland reduced 
to a cinder than "liberated" by men who advocated such 
principles. The result, as might be expected, was a very 
hurricane of menace and denunciation hurled at my devoted 
head. Mr. Mooney addressed to me, through the pages of 
his newspaper, a letter of three columns or ten feet in length, 
reiterating very emphatically the doctrines I had reprobated. 
I quote a few sentences : 

" I am thoroughly of opinion, sir, that words or grass are not of the 
slightest avail against England, or against her pickets and vedettes in 
Ireland, — that is to say, the crow-bar landlords. Nothing but bullets, 
sir, will avail ; and therefore I recommend my countrymen to shoot 
the landlord house-levelers as we shoot robbers, or rats, at night or 
in the day, on the roadside or in the market-place ! 

" That I offered a reward of five hundred dollars for the head of 
Major Brabazon is most true. True, I declared that the killing of 
said Brabazon was 'patriotic, noble, and righteous.'" 

Then he describes at full length a case of barbarous evic- 
tion by Mr. Brabazon, and proceeds : 

" Shoot him ! Yes. 

"The life of a peasant is as valuable as the life of a peer. If the 
peer oppress the peasant by force of arms, break into and break down 
his house, let him be slain wheresoever he shall be caught. 

" You have dubbed me a prophet of landlord assassination: I accept 
the distinction. Let them look out ! It is the intention of many a 
valiant Irishman to return to Ireland to shoot down the inhuman 
scoundrels whose acts we have noted and whose names we have 
registered. 

" But though you do not approve my plan of putting down the 
Saxon power, you are, you say, ready for a fair fight. ' Blood,' you 



316 NEW IRELAND. 

say, 'may yet perhaps "be spilled in fair fight. The arms employed 
for the winning of Irish freedom shall not be the knife or the blun- 
derbuss of the assassin, and no stain of that blood which cries to 
heaven for vengeance shall be found upon our flag when its full 
breadth of green and gold is flung open to the wind.' 

" A very pretty poetic paragraph, sir, — but poetry only. A ' fair 
fight ' with the Saxon, quotha ! Hast thou read the history of the 
Saxons ? These be the men to whom you beg of us to offer ' fair 
fight,' — they armed to the teeth, supplied with artillery, shot, and 
shell, and we elaborately disarmed by the cowardly wretches I Bah ! 

" Bah ! I say I No longer, Sullivan, be officer of mine." 

It was not, however, the Phoenix in New York, nor 
Mooneifs Express in San Francisco, that did the most effect- 
ive work for the Fenian movement in Ireland. That move- 
ment was to a considerable extent established and propa- 
gated by the unconsciously rendered aid of the English 
newspapers, chiefly the Times and the Daily News. In 
1859 and 1860 the Italian question was the subject of the 
hour. The English people, the English press, plunged hotly 
into the work of encouraging the subjects of Pio Nono and 
Francis Joseph and Ferdinand to conspire and rebel. So 
eager were the London journals to press the Komans or 
Venetians or Sicilians into revolt, that they were blind to 
the work which their words, doctrines, pleadings, and incen- 
tives were, at that very moment, doing in Ireland. Every 
weapon which Mr. Stephens needed for the purposes of his 
secret society was deftly fashioned for him and put into his 
hand by the Daily News, the Sun, or the Times, by Lord 
John Eussell or Lord Ellenborough. Not merely were the 
Romagnols told that every people had a right to choose their 
own rulers, to depose the old and set up the new, but they 
were told that the amount of provocation or justification for 
such a course, how often or when they might adopt it, was 
for themselves and no one else to pronounce. Said the 
Times, — 

" That government should be for the good of the governed, and 
that whenever rulers willfully and persistently postpone the good of 



TEE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 317 

their subjects, either to the interests of foreign states, or to abstract 
theories of religion or politics, the people have a right to throw off 
the yoke, are principles which have been too often admitted and acted 
upon to be any longer questioned." 

But who should judge all this ? Here is the reply supplied 
by the great English journal : 

" The destiny of a nation ought to be determined, not by the opin- 
ions of other nations, but by the opinion of the nation itself. To decide 
whether they are well governed or not, or rather whether the degree 
of extortion, corruption, and cruelty to which they are subject is suffi- 
cient to justify armed resistance, is for those who live under that 
government, — not for those who, being exempt from its oppression, 
feel a sentimental or theological interest in its continuance." 

The Daily News was equally explicit : 

" Europe has over and over again affirmed that one principle on 
which the Italian question depends, and to which the inhabitants of 
Central Italy appeal, — the right of a people to choose its own rulers." 

On the same point the Times : 

" England has not scrupled to avow her opinion that the people of 
the Roman States, like every other people, have a right to choose the 
form of their own government, and the persons in whose hands that 
government shall be placed." 

The Sun declared, — 

" As free Englishmen we assert the rights of the Romans, and of all 
nations, to have governors of their own choice." 

The English Minister for Foreign Affairs, Lord John 
Russell, speaking at Aberdeen, enforced the same doctrine. 
A passage in the Queen's speech affirmed it. Lord Ellen- 
borough hoped the Pope's subjects would appeal to arms as 
the only way in which they could assert their right : 

" I will hope that, stimulated by the insults to Italy which are con- 
veyed in the demands France is about to make in the Congress, they 



318 NEW IRELAND. 

will rise to vindicate their right to choose their own government, and 
clutch the arms by which alone it can be secured." 

Out of these declarations arose in Ireland a movement 
which the popular journals designated " Taking England at 
her word." The Nation proposed that a National Petition 
in the following form should be presented to the Queen : 

" That petitioners have seen with deep concern the recognition of 
the right of every people to change or choose their rulers and form of 
government, which is contained in the speech delivered by your 
Majesty at the opening of the present session of Parliament, and also 
contained in the speech delivered on a recent occasion at Aberdeen by 
your Majesty's Foreign Secretary, as well as in the speeches of many 
other statesmen and persons of high position in England, and in the 
writings of the most influential English newspapers. 

" That by the general approval with which those speeches and writ- 
ings have been received in England, and more especially by the course 
of policy pursued by your Majesty's Government in reference to the 
late political events in Central Italy, the Sovereign, the Ministry, the 
Press, and People of England have, in the most distinct and public 
manner, declared their approval of the principle that every people who 
believe themselves to be ill-governed have a right to change the sys- 
tem of government which is displeasing to them, and to substitute for 
it one of their own choice ; which choice may be declared by a majority 
of the votes which shall be given on submitting the question to a 
universal suffrage. 

" That, as is well known to your Majesty, from petitions emanating 
from meetings at which millions of your Majesty's subjects attended, 
as well as from other events at various times, which petitioners deem 
it unnecessary to specify, a very strong desire exists among the Irish 
people to obtain, in place of the present system of government in Ire- 
land, a restoration of their native parliament, and their legislative 
independence. That petitioners are confident the overwhelming 
majority of the Irish people ardently desire this restoration of their 
national constitution, of which they believe they were unjustly de- 
prived ; yet, as your Majesty's advisers may have led you to believe 
that this desire for a domestic legislature is entertained by only a 
minority of the population, petitioners behold in the proceeding so 
highly approved of by your Majesty's ministers — viz., a popular vote 
by ballot and universal suffrage — a means by which the real wishes of 



THE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 319 

a majority of your Majesty's Irish subjects may be unmistakably ascer- 
tained. 

" Your petitioners, therefore, pray that your Majesty may be gra- 
ciously pleased to direct and authorize a public vote by ballot and uni- 
versal suffrage in Ireland, to make known the wishes of the people, 
Avhether for a native government and legislative independence, or for 
the existing system of government by the imperial Parliament. Peti- 
tioners trust that their request will be considered stronger, not weaker, 
in your Majesty's estimation, for being made respectfully, peacefully, 
and without violence, instead of being marked by such proceedings as 
have occurred during the recent political changes in Italy, which have 
been so largely approved by your Majesty's ministers. 

"And petitioners, as in duty bound, will ever pray." 

This petition received the signatures of over half a million 
of adult Irishmen. It was duly presented. It was never 
answered. Still the English people went on declaring that 
a "vote of the population" was the way to test the legiti- 
macy or oppressiveness of a government. Still the English 
[newspapers went on adjuring subject peoples to strike if they 
Would be free. Every Fenian organizer had these quota- 
tions on his tongue. The fate of the National Petition was 
pointed to ; the contemptuous silence of the sovereign was 
galled disdain for a people who would not clutch the arms 
whereby alone their right to choose their own government 
could be secured. 

One article there was in the London Times — a magnificent 
outburst of scathing taunt and passionate invective — which 
played a remarkable part in the Fenian operations. It was 
the gospel of organizers. A glance at it will show that it 
was just to their hand : 

"It is quite time that all the struggling nationalities should clearly 
understand that freemen have no sympathy with men who do nothing 
but howl and shriek in their fetters. 

" Liberty is a serious game, to be played out, as the Greek told the 
Persian, with knives and hatchets, and not with drawled epigrams and 
soft petitions. 

" We may prate among us of moral courage and moral force, but we 
have also physical courage and physical force kept for ready use. Is 



320 NEW IRELAND. 

this so with the Italians of Central Italy ? That they wish to be free is 
nothing. A horse or a sheep or a canary-bird has probably some vague 
instinct toward a state of freedom ; but what we ask, and what within 
the last few days we have asked with some doubt, is, Are these Italians 
prepared to fight for the freedom they have 1 If so, well ; they will 
certainly secure it ; if not, let Austria flog them with scorpions instead 
of whips, and we in England shall only stop our ears against their 
screams. 

" The highest spectacle which the world can offer to a freeman is to 
see his brother man contending bravely — nay, fighting desperately — for 
his liberty. The lowest sentiment of contempt which a freeman can 
feel is that excited by a wretched serf who has been polished and edu- 
cated to a full sense of the degradation of his position, yet is without 
the manhood to do more than utter piteous lamentations." 

Despite these favoring circumstances, the Fenian enroll- 
ment made but slow progress up to 1861. Its conflict with 
the Catholic sentiment of the Irish population was a draw- 
back Avhich counterbalanced any advantage derived from the 
teachings of the English newspapers. In the spring of that 
year the official organ, after a necessitous existence, disap- 
peared ; and in America, as in Ireland, the fortunes of the 
movement were at a low ebb. In April the American civil 
war burst forth. The people, North and South, sprang to 
arms. The Irish were foremost in "going with their States." 
An Irish brigade fought on each side. One led by General 
Pat Cleburne distinguished itself under the Confederate flag. 
One commanded by General T. F. Meagher won laurels that 
will not fade beneath the starry banner of the Union. In 
this rush to the field the Fenian circles were broken up and 
abandoned on all hands. For a moment, but only for a 
moment, it appeared as if the American war would extin- 
guish the movement. A new and a stronger impulse soon 
came to press it on. The readiness with which England 
conceded belligerent rights to the seceding States, and other 
circumstances, early gave rise to the idea that a rupture 
between the Washington Government and the Court of St. 
James's was inevitable. This impression was sedulously en- 



THE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 321 

couraged in the Northern States and in Ireland as an incentive 
to the Irish to join the Federal regiments. It had a powerful 
effect in each country. All the way from Ireland a continuous 
stream of young, active, and able-bodied men poured into 
the Federal ranks. The story was almost universally believed 
that Mr. Seward had as good as promised certain of the 
Irish leaders that when the Union was restored America 
would settle accounts with John Bull, and that Ireland 
would be gratefully repaid for her aid to the Stars and 
Stripes. This was the crowning stroke of good fortune for 
the Fenian leaders. 

Another circumstance, equally advantageous, meantime 
came to their aid. Terence Bellew McManus, one of the 
"Forty-eight" leaders, had in 1851 effected a bold and daring 
escape from his captivity in Van Diemen's Land, and soon 
after settled in San Francisco. Early in 1861 he died in that 
city, to the deep sorrow of all his countrymen, by whom he 
was greatly loved. Some one suggested that the body of the 
dead rebel should be disinterred from its grave in foreign 
soil and be borne with public ceremonial across continent 
and ocean to the land of his birth. The proposition was 
enthusiastically embraced. The incident was so dramatic, 
and touched such deep emotions, that the proceeding as- 
sumed a magnitude and a solemnity which astonished and 
startled every one. The Irish race in America seemed to 
make of the funeral a demonstration of devotion to the old 
land. The Irish at home were seized with like feelings, and 
on all sides prepared to give a suitable reception to the re- 
mains of him who, proscribed in life, might return only in 
death to the land he loved. It was a proceeding which 
appealed powerfully to the sympathies of the people ; and 
Nationalists of all hues and sections mingled in the homage 
to patriotism which it was understood to convey. 

It was only when the "funeral" preparations had been 
somewhat advanced, a whisper went round that the affair 
was altogether in the hands of the Fenian leaders, and was 



322 NEW IRELAND. 

being used to advance their projects. This put non-Fenian 
Nationalists in a difficulty which their opponents heartily- 
enjoyed. To draw back and hold aloof was a course which 
could be explained only by making assertions of the most 
serious and perilous nature, proof of which few men would 
care to adduce. To go on was to swell the tide that might 
perhaps sweep Ireland into a civil war. Indeed, at one time 
the purpose was seriously entertained of making the Mac- 
Manus demonstration the signal for insurrection. The idea 
was vehemently and successfully combated by Mr. Stephens, 
on the ground that his preparations had been only begun ; 
and he would not strike till he was ready. It required the 
utmost exertion of his authority to enforce this veto ; and it 
was only after hot controversy the contemplated rising on 
that occasion was given up. The funeral, along the whole 
route from San Francisco to Dublin, was one of the most 
impressive demonstrations of the kind ever seen. Every 
considerable city in the States sent a delegation to attend it. 
On the 30th of October, 1867, the body arrived at Queens- 
town, and in the interval between that date and the inter- 
ment in Glasnevin cemetery, Dublin, on Sunday the 10th of 
November, the island was in a state of anxiety and excite- 
ment. The Most Eev. Dr. Cullen, Catholic Archbishop* of 
Dublin, aware of what underlay the proceedings, refused to 
permit any lying in state or other public ceremonial in the 
churches of his diocese, — a decision which drew down upon 
him the wildest denunciations. With great cleverness the 
revolutionary leaders called any opposition to their arrange- 
ments "enmity to the dead," " hostility to love of country." 
Five years afterward, when the Fenian chiefs themselves 
avowed that the funeral was the expedient whereby they 
really established their movement in Ireland, the conduct of 
i the archbishop was better understood by many who were 
among the loudest in censuring him at the time. Some of 
the Fenian authorities have estimated that a larger number 
of adherents were sworn in during the three weeks of the 



TEE FENIAN MOVEMENT. 323 

MacManus obsequies than during the previous two years. 
The funeral procession through the streets of Dublin was a 
great display. Fifty thousand men marched after the 
hearse. At least as many more lined the streets and sympa- 
thizingly looked on. 

That day gave the Fenian chiefs a command of Ireland 
which they had uever been able to obtain before. In the 
continuous struggle which went on between them on the 
one hand and the Catholic clergy and non-Fenian National- 
ists on the other, they thenceforth assumed a boldness of 
language and action never previously attempted. The 
American delegates who had accompanied the remains of 
MacManus to Ireland returned with news that the home or- 
ganization was of real extent and strength, and needed only 
the aid which America could supply, namely, money and 
arms and officers, to effect at almost any moment the total 
overthrow of British power in Ireland. Upon these reports 
the movement in America very shortly assumed an entirely 
new character, and eventually grew to enormous dimensions. 
Men who had hitherto held aloof — men of position, char- 
acter, and ability — entered earnestly into the work of prepar- 
ation. Money was poured into the coffers of the organiza- 
tion. The conviction spread that the hour was at hand 
when Ireland would "burst long ages' thrall; "and even 
the poorest of her sons and daughters pressed eagerly for- 
ward with their contributions. There was no longer any 
doubt that an insurrection in Ireland which could maintain 
itself in anything like respectable force for even a month 
would command millions of dollars and thousands of help- 
ing hands from the Irish in America. This was abundantly 
exemplified by the manner in which the news of the Irish 
Fenian arrests later on (in 1865) was received by them. 
The Fenian officers were besieged with sympathizers. 
Fathers and mothers brought their sons to be enrolled ; ser- 
vant-girls brought savings of their wages ; Californian miners 
gave freely of their hoards. Old men who had seen the 



324 NE W IRELAND. 

roof-tree leveled at home, young men who had heard the 
story of the eviction from parents now no more, clamorously 
asked to be put "first on the roll " for call to action. The 
famine-clearances had sown "dragons' teeth" from the 
Hudson to the Mississippi. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

A TROUBLED TIME. 

The men who led, or most largely influenced, Irish na- 
tional politics from 1860 to 1865, were William Smith 
O'Brien, John Martin, and The O'Donoghue. The first- 
named did not, indeed, take any very active part by personal 
presence in public affairs ; but he was recognized and re- 
ferred to as the chief of the National party. His counsel 
was always sought ; and through public letters issued from 
time to time in the Nation, he exercised a considerable in- 
fluence on passing events. Mr. Martin had returned to Ire- 
land in 1858. For a year or two he lived in great retirement 
at Kilbroney, near Rostrevor, one of the most beautiful 
spots in his native Ulster ; but he could not long resist the 
pressure brought to bear on him to give his voice and in- 
fluence once more to the service of the National cause. It 
was not, however, until early in 1864, when, in conjunction 
with The O'Donoghue, he established a Repeal society, 
called the National League, that he may be said to have 
resumed active public life. 

Two men of equal prominence, and in many respects of 
greater ability, re-entered the arena later on, — John B. Dil- 
lon and George Henry Moore. The latter, on the death of 
Lucas and the departure of Gavan Duffy, in 1855, took the 
command of the shattered ranks of the Tenant League 
party ; and assuredly 

" si Pergama dextra 
Def endi possent, etiam Mc def ensa f uissent ; " 

— if genius, courage, and devotion could have repaired what 

325 



326 NEW IRELAND. 

perfidy had destroyed, that gifted son of Mayo had retrieved 
all. He was unseated on his re-election in 1857, — being 
held to account for alleged spiritual " intimidation," — and, 
refusing several offers of other constituencies, watched si- 
lently and sadly the course of public affairs up to 1868. 

The leading figure on Irish platforms from 1858 to 1868 
was The O'Donoghue, then member of Parliament for Tip- 
perary County. Throughout the greater part of those ten 
years he was the most popular man in Ireland. Many con- 
siderations combined to give him the position to which he 
thus attained. His ancient family, his kinship with O'Con- 
nell, his splendid physique, his easy manners, his generous 
nature, his eloquence, his patriotism, — all marked him out 
as a popular favorite. His title of Celtic chieftainship had 
come down to him through a proud ancestry of at least four 
hundred years. He was young, dashing, courageous, ready 
to do and dare for Ireland. His first appearance in public 
life was as candidate for Tipperary, under the auspices of 
George Henry Moore, in 1857, — on the expulsion of Mr. 
James Sadleir.* The young chieftain carried all before 
him, and went at a bound into the forefront of national 
politics. He and I were naturally thrown much together. 
Throughout the whole of that period we fought side by side. 
On almost every public question our opinions were identical. 
We took very nearly the same view of the Fenian project, 
and alike incurred the animosity of its leaders, — he, how- 
ever, much less than I did. Once or twice in the course of 
the war between the Fenian and non-Fenian Nationalists I 
trembled for him. I knew the secret chiefs, with one excep- 
tion, were most anxious to get hold of him, and that tempt- 
ing offers had been made to him. I have reason to think 
Mr. Stephens did not greatly care to convert The O'Don- 

* Shortly after the suicide of John Sadleir (the hanker and Brigade 
leader), it was discovered that his brother James was criminally im- 
plicated in frauds on the Tipperary Bank. He fled the country, and 
was expelled Parliament by a special vote of the House of Commons. 



A TROUBLED TIME. 327 

oghue. He disliked so dangerous a rival near his throne. 
Fortunately, though the young chieftain hurled strong hate 
against the English power, nothing could dispel his objec- 
tions to a scheme which he, on the whole, agreed with me in 
believing might bathe Ireland in blood, — might display, in- 
deed, the self-sacrifice and heroism of her sons, but could 
only rivet her chains and multiply her sufferings. 

In the summer of 1803 Mr. Stephens decided upon start- 
ing a weekly journal in Dublin which should at once advo- 
cate the special views of the Fenian organization and in- 
crease its financial revenues. In November of that year he 
carried out this purpose by starting the Irish People news- 
paper. It seems never to have occurred to him that there 
were two serious dangers in this singular proceeding. It 
was almost certain to concentrate under the eye and the hand 
of the Government all that was active and dangerous in his 
organization ; and as to finances, the chances of loss rather 
than gain were considerable. As a matter of fact, both those 
dangers befell the enterprise. Although behind the Irish 
People were an army of active and zealous organizers and 
agents, and though all the resources of the organization 
were exerted to push it, that journal was a heavy drag on 
his resources, not an aid to them. Its existence enabled us 
in the Nation office — as, no doubt, it enabled the Govern- 
ment also — to ascertain substantially where Fenian and non- 
Fenian Nationalism prevailed. It swept all before it among 
the Irish in England and Scotland, almost annihilating the 
circulation of the Nation in many places north and south of 
the Tweed. On the other hand, in Ireland it was never 
able to approach our journals in circulation ; and in many 
places we drove it totally from, the field. With what seems 
utter fatuity, Mr. Stephens placed upon the staff of his 
journal, published within a stone's throw of Dublin Castle 
gate, the foremost men of the Fenian organization. John 
O'Leary, Charles J. Kickham, and T. C. Luby were the 
editors ; O'Donovan Rossa was appointed business manager ; 



328 NEW IRELAND. 

James O'Connor was cashier. The office was, in fact, head- 
quarters. 

The establishment of the National League by Mr. Martin 
and The O'Donoghue, as an open and non-Fenian National 
organization, appealing to public opinion, gave great offense 
to the Fenian leader. Fenians attended at its meetings and 
sought to disturb or compromise the proceedings by cries for 
"a war policy," "rifles are what we want," and so on. It 
was naturally expected that, steadily assailed in this way, the 
League must give up. But John Martin intimated that he 
knew these tactics and those who were practicing them. He 
told the Fenians to go their road, he would go his, and would 
not be hindered by them. With much struggle he held his 
ground through all the troubles and terrors of 1865, and a 
good part of the following year. In August, 1806, the then 
leaders of the Fenian operations, failing in putting down the 
League meetings by interruptions, groans, and cries, gave the 
word for more violent measures. A body of Fenians one 
evening poured into the League Hall, and, on being rebuked 
by Mr. Martin for their conduct, assailed him with volleys 
of eggs and other missiles, dispersing the assemblage in great 
disorder. A still more violent, though not nearly so dis- 
graceful, exploit had two years previously marked the cul- 
mination of their hostility toAvard myself. 

In February, 1864, the committee of the Dublin Prince 
Albert Statue applied to the corporation for an allocation of 
College Green as a site for their memorial. It was well 
known that College Green had long, by a sort of national 
tradition, been marked out and reserved as the spot whereon 
a statue to Henry Grattan should stand, — as stand it does 
there now. A determined, but for the time an ineffectual, 
opposition was offered in the corporation to this "alienation 
of Grattan's site," as it was called. In this resistance I took a 
leading part, having been elected a member of the municipal 
council two years previously. "We pleaded, argued, pro- 
tested, threatened. We offered any other spot in all the city 



A TROUBLED TIME. 329 

but this for the prince's statue. A majority of the council 
considered it would be " disloyal " to refuse any site asked for 
in the name of Prince Albert, and, Grattan's claims not- 
withstanding, granted the application. A cry of indignation 
arose all over Ireland. A public meeting was convened in 
the great hall of the Rotunda, Dublin, to give voice to the 
general feeling, and to call for the rescinding of the obnox- 
ious vote. For two reasons the "CO. LB." decided to 
break up this demonstration. First, Henry Grattan was the 
representative man and founder, so to speak, of the constitu- 
tional National party, — a public character not to be held up 
to admiration by a people arming to establish an Irish re- 
public. Secondly, at this meeting A. M. Sullivan and men 
of that stamp would be applauded, which was not to be 
allowed. Secret orders were issued to all circles and sub- 
circles in Dublin to have their men in full force at the 
Botunda on the evening of the meeting. 

The O'Donoghue came up from Killarney to preside ; the 
platform was thronged with civic representatives and city 
men ; the galleries and body of the hall were densely packed. 
The O'Donoghue was proceeding with his opening address, 
and came to some complimentary allusions to me. 

"We won't have Sullivan !" fiercely shouted a voice in a 
particular corner of the hall. 

" That voice does not express the sentiments of the Irish 
people," replied the chairman. 

Yells drowned his further observations. "Down with 
Sullivan ! " "Away with Sullivan ! " rose in frantic shouts 
from compact sections of the audience immediately in front 
of the platform. The bulk of the assemblage looked on 
utterly bewildered. They could scarcely credit their senses, 
and vainly guessed at explanations. 

"Down with Sullivan ! We'll have his life ! " Suddenly, 
at a preconcerted signal, a rush was made for the platform ; 
sticks appeared as if pulled from beneath men's waistcoats, 
and in a few seconds a confused struggle was going on. 



330 NEW IRELAND. 

'Donovan Eossa and other of the Fenian organizers now 
showed themselves, and, heading a charge of their followers, 
scrambled over the barriers, striking at all who obstructed 
them. If the people could only have got a clue to the in- 
comprehensible scene, there would have been serious work, 
for the attack would have been resisted ; but, as few clearly 
understood the proceeding, no one felt called upon to make 
any special exertion. As an indignant artisan afterward 
complained, "No one knew who was who, or why was why." 

In the wild uproar, the crash of chairs, and rush of shriek- 
ing people, I found myself roughly grasped by an unknown 
hand in the crowd, and a voice shouted in my ear, "You 
come on out of this, instantly, or your life will be taken 
here to-night." I was forcibly dragged a long way toward 
the entrance. Though kindly meant, I could not bring my- 
self to acquiesce in this. I tore myself clear of my unknown 
protector, determined, whatever might befall, that I would 
walk freely out of the building. I found The O'Donoglme 
anxiously looking for me ; and we emerged together into 
the street. A friendly body-guard, however, accompanied 
us to the hotel, composed in great part, I have reason to be- 
lieve, of Fenians who knew of the violence designed against 
us, and who were determined to prevent it. 

Meanwhile Eossa and his storming-party had full posses- 
sion of the platform. They smashed the chairs and the re- 
porters' table, tore the gas-brackets down, waved the green 
baize cover of the table as a flag of victory, and shouted for 
half an hour over their success. Then they marched down 
Sackville Street and dispersed, — some to Mr. Stephens's 
lodgings to felicitate him, as proudly as if they had captured 
Dublin Castle, pulled down the Union Jack, and taken the 
Lord-Lieutenant prisoner. 

Next day the explanation of the scene became known, and 
there was great anger at this attempt of the Fenian author- 
ities to suppress the right of public meeting. It was the 
flinging down of a daring challenge to the non-Fenian Na- 



A TROUBLED TIME. 331 

tionalists. If this stroke succeeded, there was no platform 
left to them. A " Citizens' Committee " assembled, and it 
was resolved to hold on the following Monday a meeting in 
the same hall of the Botunda, to pass the resolutions origin- 
ally contemplated, — precautions being taken to encounter 
the Fenian tactics, and, if necessary, meet force by force. 

But how was this to be done ? How was it feasible to 
assemble a thousand, or two thousand, people and not know 
but they were secretly members of the Fenian organization ? 
How could we tell but even on the Citizens' Committee there 
were men whose part it was to pretend sympathy with us, 
but in reality to undermine all our plans and arrangements ? 
" It cannot possibly be done," said some of our wisest friends. 
Moreover, the city was filled with the most alarming stories 
and rumors : the Fenian leaders had ordered a thousand of 
their men to come to the next meeting armed with revolvers ; 
Mr. Stephens had sworn that, whatever it might cost, he 
would render meeting, speech, or resolution absolutely im- 
possible that day : no, not even a dozen men should be able 
to assemble ! Affrighted friends came to us and implored 
that the meeting might be given up. "These are desperate 
men ; it will uot do to cross them. There will be bloodshed 
and loss of life. Better give up ! " I, on the other hand, 
called on all friends of public liberty to be firm and to face 
every peril. "We complain of English tyranny," I said, 
"and our fathers have given their lives resisting it. Here 
is a much more odious tyranny. I am the one most loudly 
threatened. I know it. I am determined to go on, and if 
any harm befall me, I shall at all events be struck down in 
defense of public freedom." I was rejoiced to find this spirit 
prevailing extensively. The intolerance and violent despot- 
ism of the Fenian mandate against public meetings rendered 
the secret chiefs quite unpopular ; and at any fairly-assem- 
bled public gathering representative of general opinion they 
would have been indignantly condemned. 

It was resolved to hold the meeting in the early afternoon 



332 NEW IRELAND. 

(as night would give great advantage to disorder or attack), 
and that admission should be by tickets consecutively num- 
bered. I felt it was a trial of strength and skill between 
Mr. Stephens and myself, and I determined he should find 
me able to hold my own. "Foolish man !" exclaimed an 
excited friend, a day or two before the meeting, "you were 
warned how vain and hopeless it would be contending with a 
secret society ! Here they are secretly at work printing off 
for their men tickets identical with your own ; and on the day 
of meeting it is with foes, not friends, your hall will be filled !" 

I pretended to be dumbfounded. But this was just what 
I expected. I had laid a trap for the Fenian chief, and he 
walked right into it. 

A register was duly kept of every person to whom packets 
of cards had been issued for distribution ; and each distrib- 
uter was made responsible for personal knowledge of the 
name and address of every citizen to whom he gave a ticket. 
Each member of the Citizens' Committee, about forty gentle- 
men in all, received, on these conditions, four or five packets 
of tickets. I guessed that on our committee were agents of 
the enemy, and that not only would our every move be re- 
ported, but that our tickets would be forged. I knew a 
friend, a lithographer, whom I could implicitly trust, and 
unknown to everybody I employed him to print, by a tedious 
process, that could not be readily imitated, two thousand 
tickets. When I had everything ready, the day before our 
meeting I assembled the Citizens' Committee. " Gentlemen, 
our tickets are being forged," I exclaimed. "Yes, yes ; 'tis 
a fact," shouted many voices. " What a shame ! What are 
we to do ? " said some of Mr. Stephens's secret agents, in 
well-feigned surprise : "we can't hold the meeting ; we must 
give it up." 

"No, gentlemen, we will not give it up," I said.. " Each 
one of us, if he has acted faithfully and loyally, knows to 
whom he has given tickets. " 

" Quite right ; to be sure." 



A TROUBLED TIME. 333 

" Very well. All such tickets are now canceled, and will 
be refused at the doors to-morrow. Here are tickets which 
each of you will this evening exchange with the parties 
rightly entitled to them." 

A roar of delight broke from the meeting. Two or three 
of our friends certainly looked chop-fallen, despite efforts to 
seem as cheerful as the rest. 

Whether merely for the purpose of trying to frighten me, 
or with serious meaning, 'tis hard to tell ; but private mes- 
sages were now sent to my family warning them in the most 
solemn and explicit manner that this daring conduct on my 
part was going to have a sad result. They were told I was 
to be shot, pour encourage?' mix autres. I said, "Even so : 
I had rather be shot than be a coward or a slave." 

Next day the city was troubled, nervous, and excited, as if 
an earthquake had been foretold in the almanacs. The Ko- 
tunda presented a strange sight. It was like a fortress, for 
possession of which a fierce battle was to rage. That my life 
would pay the forfeit was concluded on all hands ; and even 
from distant parts of Ireland anxious friends came, armed, 
to stand by my side. One of these, the impersonation of 
devoted friendship, Mr. Thomas P. O'Connor, of Tipperary, 
was a man to whom the Fenian leaders owed much. To his 
influence, his exertions, his generosity, they subsequently 
owed still more, when, in adversity, they needed protection 
and aid. Though happily he lives still, on the night pre- 
ceding that meeting he and many others approached the 
sacraments of religion in preparation for death next day. It 
seems almost absurd now to think they regarded matters so 
seriously. My own family took leave of me as if they might 
see me no more, but they could not shake my purpose. 

A body of "National Volunteers" had offered themselves 
to act as guards and stewards at the meeting, and after care- 
ful selection two hundred were enrolled. At each door a 
"company" was placed under a trusted "captain." When, 
at one o'clock, the doors were opened, there poured into the 



334 NEW IRELAND. 

great hall, amidst much cheering, a body of citizens who 
evidently greatly regretted any conflict with their fellow- 
countrymen, but who were determined to assert the right to 
assemble in public meeting for lawful and patriotic purposes. 
Soon a cry of "forged ticket" was heard at the doors. 
The wrong men were beginning to come up, and found they 
could not pass through. About two o'clock quite a bat- 
talion arrived, headed by O'Donovan Eossa. He handed a 
wrong ticket. "'No use," said young Joseph Hanly of 
Ardavon, a model of athletic strength and vigor, who was 
captain at that door. "I must pass," said Eossa, who was 
also strongly built, powerful, active, and determined. "You 
will not," was defiautly answered. Eossa made a dash at 
the door, and was leveled by a sledge-hammer blow from 
Hanly. Quick as lightning he was on his feet, and repaid 
the compliment. The two men were on the whole pretty 
evenly matched ; bat the advantage in " science " was with 
the college-trained young captain. Eossa, who was as bold 
as a lion, fought well, but it was no use. His comrades 
struck in, but the door-guards responded; and after "as 
lovely a fight, sir, as ever you saw " (according to one of the 
latter), the Fenian party withdrew. Somewhat similar con- 
flicts occurred at other entrances ; but everywhere the as- 
sailants were defeated. The meeting was triumphantly 
held. The resolutions were passed. The day was won. 
Excusable momentary vexation apart, I doubt if the Fenians 
thought the worse of us for our resolution and pluck. The 
men on both sides exhibited a restraint as to the use of fire- 
arms which astonished everybody. Sharp and heavy blows 
were given and taken, and even some blood was spilt ; yet 
though each man of some hundreds carried a revolver in 
his pocket, not one was drawn. Had even one been pro- 
duced, a hundred would have appeared, and a deplorable 
scene might have ensued. We all rejoiced that the day had 
passed off so well. The citizens in general, I am well aware, 
were delighted. All public action in politics would have 



A TROUBLED TIME. 335 

been stopped by a violent terrorism had we not made this 
stand for tolerance, fair play, and freedom.* 

On the 2d of April, 18G5, the fall of Richmond closed the 
American war. On the 7th General Lee surrendered. By 
June the Federal armies were in process of disbandment. 
The Irish regiments were free. Hundreds of daring and 
skillful officers, spoiled for peaceful pursuits, were on the 
lookout for a sympathetic cause in which they might con- 
tinue their career. The Fenian leaders felt that the hour 
for action had arrived. Arms were being daily imported 
and distributed, although not to anything like the extent 
pretended by Mr. Stephens. Every steamer from America 
brought a number of officers, among the earliest being 
Brigadier-General T. F. Millcn, who took up his quarters 
in Dublin as chief in command. From the Continent came 
General Cluseret and General Fariola, the former of whom 
was heard of subsequently in the struggle of the Commune 
in Paris. Every one knew what was at hand, for there was 
a wondrous amount of publicity about the secret movements 
of Fenianism. The American circles, in order to stimulate 

* The Fenian chief did not all at once desist from the desire to try 
conclusions with me, as the subjoined extract from the letter of "An 
Old Dublin Center" (in the Irishman of the 6th of February, 1875), 
inveighing against Mr. Stephens, reveals : " Once I heard him declare 
that he had one town (Liverpool) so organized and devoted to the local 
leader that he could at any time cause a panic in European politics by 
sending down orders to capture the garrison of one thousand men and 
hold the place until there was not one man living among its ruins ; 
and said he would be obeyed to the letter. The truth of this state- 
ment will be seen when some time afterward Sullivan of the Nation 
went to the place to lecture, and he (Stephens) sent orders to hunt him 
out of the town. What then ? Only two or three could be found to 
do the business, and they were expelled the lecture-hall on the first 
indication of disturbance." 

I remember the incident referred to very well ; but the " Old Cen- 
ter" does Mr. Stephens injustice in assuming there were not thousands 
of Fenians enrolled in Liverpool because "only two or three " obeyed 
an order so odious and unpopular. 



336 NEW IRELAND. 

subscriptions, published addresses announcing all that was 
afoot. One issued by the Springfield circle "to their Amer- 
ican fellow-citizens " was as follows : 

" Ireland is about to have her revolution. The day of provisional 
government is established. An army of two hundred thousand men is 
sworn to sustain it. Officers, American and Irish, who have served 
with distinction iD your service, are silently moving- into Ireland to 
assume control of the active operations to be inaugurated in a few 
months, — sooner, much sooner, than any of you believe." 

In August the Irish newspapers began to fill with alarmist 
letters from country gentlemen ; and the contingency of a 
midnight rising was discussed from a hundred points of view. 
In September the magistrates of Cork County, to the number 
of one hundred and fifty, assembled in special meeting to 
consider the perilous state of affairs. They memorialed the 
Government on the subject, but the Government had already 
formed its decision. It is not easy to determine the stage at 
which a secret society can be most effectually struck. A 
singular incident showed the authorities in Dublin Castle 
that they had not many moments to lose. On the machine- 
room staff of the Irish People was a man named Pierce Na- 
gle, a great favorite and confidential agent or courier of Mr. 
Stephens. For more than a year Nagle had been in the se- 
cret pay of the Government, and was supplying deadly infor- 
mation against the Fenian chiefs. One day an envoy arrived 
from the South Tipperary B's, and received from Mr. Stephens 
a dispatch of the utmost secresy and importance, with which 
he was to return instantly to Clonmel. The missive he bore 
was to be read for the centers there, and then destroyed. 
The envoy got rather overpowered with " refreshment " in 
the afternoon, and went to sleep on a bench in the machine- 
room. Nagle, coming in, saw him, and rightly guessed he 
was likely to hare received some important letter from "the 
Captain." He quietly turned the pockets of the sleeper in- 
side out, and took from him the precious document. Some 



A TROUBLED TIME. 337 

days elapsed before he was able to find an opportunity for 
safely handing it over to the police. Once in their posses- 
sion, the importance of that missive was fully recognized. 
Before many hours it was in the council-chamber of Dublin 
Castle. A glance at its contents showed Lord Wodehouse 
that he must strike quickly and strike hard. Which he 
did. 

15 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE RICHMOND ESCAPE. 

"Hurry in to town. Quick ! — quick ! There is desper- 
ate work. The Irish People is suppressed ; the office is seized ; 
Luby, O'Leary, and Eossa are arrested ; telegraphic commu- 
nication with the South is stopped ; no one knows what may 
not be going on ! " It was my brother who spoke at my bed- 
room door early in the morning of Saturday, 16 th of Sep- 
tember, 1865. He had driven from town to where I lived, 
some three miles distant in the northern suburbs, to bear me 
news of truly startling events that had just occurred. 

" Luby, O'Leary, and Rossa arrested ! " I exclaimed. 
"Have they got Stephens ?" 

"No ; not up to the time I left." 

" Then depend upon it he will fight. We shall have bar- 
ricades in the city to-night." 

I breakfasted hastily, my brother going on with his narra- 
tive of the proceedings. I concealed my feelings as best I 
could ; but I took a very serious view of the situation. From 
information which had reached me during the previous month 
or two, I knew that this coup did not anticipate by more than 
a few weeks the date fixed by the Fenian leaders for the out- 
break of hostilities. I judged that the difference in time 
being so small, Mr. Stephens would rather accept battle now 
than let his men be struck down in detail. Moreover, this 
move of the Government was so obvious, so inevitable, that 
he must have been prepared for it from the first hour when 
he publicly established a central bureau of Fenian affairs at 
the very threshold of the Castle and filled it with the best and 

338 



THE RICHMOND ESCAPE. 339 

most prominent men of his organization. I drove into town, 
and found excitement and alarm on all sides. It was only 
after a considerable interval I was able to gather anything 
like a correct and coherent account of what had occurred, so 
wild and contradictory were the stories in circulation. 

On the previous day, Friday, 15th of September, 1865, a 
privy council was hastily held at Dublin Castle. Before it 
were laid reports from the police authorities on the critical 
state of the Fenian business ; the steady flow of American 
officers into the country ; the increased activity in the prov- 
inces ; the arrival of large remittances of money to the Fe- 
nian leaders ; the extensive drilling going on all over the 
kingdom, particularly in Dublin. But, most important of 
all, the following letter, in the handwriting of the supreme 
chief of the movement, was placed upon the table : 

il Dublin, Septembers, 1865. 

"Beotheks, 

" I regret to find the letter I addressed to you has never reached you. 
Had you received it I am confident all would have been right before 
this ; because I told you explicitly what to do, and once you saw your 
way it is sure to me that you would have done it well. As far as I can 
understand your actual position and wishes now, the best course to 
take is to get all the working B's together, and after due deliberation 
and without favor to any one — acting purely and conscientiously for 
the good of the cause — to select one man to represent and direct you 
all. This selection made, the man of your choice should come up here 
at once, when he shall get instructions and authority to go on with the 
good work. There is no time to be lost. This year— and let there be 
no mistake about it— must be the year of action. I speak with a 
knowledge and authority to which no other man could pretend ; and 
I repeat, the flag of Ireland— of the Irish Republic — must this year be 
raised. As I am much pressed for time, I shall merely add that it 
shall be raised in a glow of hope such as never gleamed round it be- 
fore. Be, then, of firm faith and the best of cheer, for all goes bravely 

on. Tours fraternally, 

"J. Power.* 

" N.B. This letter must be read for the working B's only, and when 
read must be burnt." 



* One of Stephens's innumerable aliases. 



340 NEW IRELAND. 

This was the letter which Pierce Nagle had taken from the 
pocket of the intoxicated Fenian courier as he lay asleep in 
the Irish People office. 

The Privy Council decided that the conspiracy must be 
struck instantly and simultaneously all over the island. The 
Fenian organ was to be seized and suppressed ; the leaders 
were everywhere to be arrested. So suddenly was this reso- 
lution arrived at that a difficulty arose as to seizing the 
newspaper. Already the bulk of its publication for that 
week was on its way to England and the Irish provinces. 
At the very moment the Privy Council was sitting, the Irish 
People machinery was printing off the "country edition," 
and vans were bearing the agents' parcels to the trains and 
steamboats. There was no help for this now. At three 
o'clock the council broke up, and the police got their orders 
to prepare for action. Before they ventured to stir in Dub- 
lin they telegraphed to all the " dangerous " cities and towns, 
notifying the authorities in those places that at ten o'clock 
p.m. a simultaneous dash must be made on the Fenians, and 
that all necessary precautions must accordingly be taken. 
About nine o'clock the manager of the Magnetic Telegraph 
Company was surprised by a visit from a Government official 
with an astonishing request. He said that, owing to "some- 
thing that was about to happen," the Government wished 
all telegrams relating to Fenianism, unless between the public 
authorities, to be " withheld." The manager well knew what 
was meant. There was no refusing such a polite invitation. 
The requisite assent was given. Indeed, to make assurance 
doubly sure, a policeman in plain clothes was stationed in 
the telegraph-office. All now being ready, at half-past nine 
o'clock several bodies of police, well armed, were quietly 
moved upon Parliament Street, each end of which they oc- 
cupied. While the passers-by were wondering at the pres- 
ence of this police cordon, some of the detective force 
knocked at the door of No. 12, which was the Irish People 
office. No one opened, whereupon the door was forced. 



THE RICHMOND ESCAPE. 341 

With a rush the house was occupied, and ransacked. No 
person was found within. The office-books, type-forms, and 
bales of printed papers (the "town edition" of the Irish 
People) were brought out into the street, piled on a dray, 
and carried off to the Castle, — a guard of police being left 
on the premises. Barely half an hour previously the Irish 
People staff had left the office, their labors for the day being 
over. Some of them had not quitted the immediate vicinity. 
Soon the street rang with the news ; hearing it they rushed 
out, and were seized. At the same moment, other parties of 
police were at work all over the city. The residences of the 
prominent Fenians were well known, and before many hours 
O'Donovan Kossa, John O'Clohissy, Thomas Ashe, Michael 
O'Neill Fogarty, Mortimor Moynihan, and "W. F. Koantree 
were lodged in prison. None of them made resistance. It 
was late after midnight when Mr. Luby, who was spending 
the evening with a friend, returned to his residence at Dol- 
phin's Barn. He did not know that two detectives had lain 
concealed for hours in a little shrubbery close by, waiting for 
him. He had barely entered his house when they knocked, 
gained admittance, and arrested him. They searched for pa- 
pers, and found several, — among the rest some letters from 
an extraordinary genius named O'Keeffe, well known in some 
of the Dublin newspaper offices for his crazy eccentricities. 
He had written in his characteristic style to Mr. Luby, urg- 
ing the revolutionary leaders, if they meant business, to go 
in for a battue of big landlords like the Duke of Leinster. 
To any one who knew the man the letter would be an amusing 
literary curiosity. As such Mr. Luby laughed over it him- 
self, and showed it to others to laugh at also. Unfortunately 
for him, however, he did not destroy O'Keeffe's ferocious 
programme. It was a dangerous document for a man en- 
gaged in political conspiracy to preserve, as an apparent 
reality and seriousness of meaning might be cast upon its 
contents when found among the class of papers seized in the 
course of these arrests. As a matter of fact, these wretched 



342 NEW IRELAND. 

O'Keeffe letters were made the foundation for charges against 
the Fenian prisoners, which some of them felt more keenly, 
and complained of more vehemently, than the severest tor- 
tures of prison punishment.* The O'Keeffe manuscript, 
however, mischievous as was the part it played in subsequent 
events, was not the most fatal discovery made on that occa- 
sion. In Mr. Luby's desk was found a sealed packet ad- 
dressed "Miss Frazer." "What is this?" said the officer, 
putting it on the table before Mr. Luby. For a second his 
lip trembled and his color changed ; but, suddenly recover- 
ing himself, he replied in a careless manner, " Oh, this is 
something between the ladies ;'" and he pushed it across to 
his wife. Before she could stir, the officer seized it. That 
sealed envelope contained the most conclusive testimony 
which, from the first hour to the last, the Government ob- 
tained upon which to convict the leading conspirators. It 
was the commission, under the hand of Mr. Stephens, as 
supreme chief of the revolutionary movement, appointing 
Messrs. Luby, O'Leary, and Kickham a triumvirate or exec- 

* Nothing wounded the Fenian leaders more than the horrible sug- 
gestion that they contemplated "a general massacre and universal pil- 
lage." Taking the O'Keeffe letters as their authority, the Castle officials 
who prepared the brief or statement of evidence on which the Crown 
counsel was to act at the preliminary investigations broadly set forth 
this revolting and cruel assertion. The prisoners have never forgiven 
that imputation. They concentrated all, or nearly all, their anger on 
the hapless gentleman who was Crown counsel on the occasion referred 
to, Mr. C. K. (now Mr. Justice) Barry. Epitomizing the case as briefed 
to him, he made this statement. When subsequently its falsehood, as 
regards those prisoners, was found out in the Castle, all that was done 
was to abandon — to cease from mentioning — instead of openly retract- 
ing it. This pitiful course wronged the prisoners and wronged Mr. 
Barry. It left the former under the odium of an imputation abhor- 
rent to them. It deprived the latter of the opportunity he gladly 
would have seized of displaying his generosity and high sense of jus- 
tice in delivering his own mind, not the language of a brief, on the 
whole proceeding. 



THE RICHMOND ESCAPE. 343 

utive during his absence on a visit to the American circles. 
It ran as follows : 

" I hereby empower Thomas Clarke Luby, John O'Leary, and Charles 
J. Kickham a Committee of Organization or Executive, with the same 
supreme control over the home organization, England, Ireland, and 
Scotland, that I have exercised myself. I further empower them to 
appoint a Committee of Military Inspection and a Committee of Ap- 
peal and Judgment, the functions of which committee will be made 
known to every member of them. Trusting to the patriotism and 
abilities of the Executive I fully endorse their actions beforehand. I 
call on every man in our ranks to support and be guided by them in 
all that concerns the military brotherhood. 

"J. Stephens." 

Mr. Luby was borne off to prison. His papers were car- 
ried under seal to the Castle. Mr. George Hopper (whose 
sister was wife of Mr. Stephens), Mr. John O'Leary, and 
many others, were arrested in the early morning. It may be 
said that before the afternoon of Saturday, with the excep- 
tion of Stephens himself and two or three others, the Gov- 
ernment had in their grasp every man of prominence con- 
nected with the Irish branch of the conspiracy. 

Still, the remark which almost involuntarily fell from me 
on hearing the news that morning was on every lip, " If they 
have not got Stephens, their swoop is vain. He will fill up 
all gaps, and give the signal for action ere twenty-four 
hours. " 

Meantime all over Ireland scenes somewhat similar to 
those above described were proceeding. Midnight arrests 
and seizures, hurried flights and perilous escapes, wild ru- 
mors and panic alarms, scared every considerable city and 
town. It was a critical time in Dublin Castle. Sir Thomas 
Larcom, Under-Secretary, sat up all night, every five min- 
utes receiving reports and issuing directions. So anxious 
was the Government as to the successful seizure of the Irish 
People office, that Mr. OTerrall, the Commissioner of Police, 
and Colonel "Wood, Inspector- General of Constabulary, per- 



344 NEW IRELAND. 

sonally superintended the proceedings at that spot. Colonel 
Lake, C.B., took general charge of the arrangements through- 
out the city for effecting the arrests and suppressing any re- 
sistance. In Dublin and Cork an outbreak was fully antici- 
pated. Into the latter city an additional battery of artillery 
was hastily dispatched from Ballincollig. All the soldiers 
of the garrison were aroused from their beds and put under 
arms at three o'clock in the morning ; and reinforcements 
from Fermoy and other stations were rapidly hurried in. 

With troubled minds and heavy hearts the citizens of 
Dublin counted the hours of that exciting day, alarm inten- 
sifying as night approached. Many sat up until near dawn, 
listening for the first roar of artillery or rattle of musketry 
in the streets ; and it was with an indescribable sense of re- 
lief that people found the night pass tranquilly away. 

Where was Stephens all this time? Calm and undisturbed, 
living openly enough in a pretty suburban villa not two 
miles from Dublin Castle. Proclamations offering two hun- 
dred pounds for his arrest were scattered all over the coun- 
try, and a description of his person was posted at every 
barrack door. Thousands of policemen, hundreds of spies 
and detectives, were exerting every effort of ingenuity to 
discover his whereabouts ; all in vain. They scrutinized 
every railway-passenger ; they laid hands on every commer- 
cial traveler who happened in any way to resemble his de- 
scription. They had a keen eye for everything that might 
seem like a disguise. They never thought of looking for 
him in no disguise at all ! " Mr. Herbert," of Fairfield 
House, Sandymount, affected no concealment. He lived, 
no doubt, very much at home, but he might be seen nearly 
every day in his flower-garden or greenhouse busily arrang- 
ing his geraniums or tending his japonicas. He lived well, 
kept a good cellar, and had his house furnished tastefully. It 
never occurred to the detective mind that a placid-looking 
gentleman so deeply immersed in horticulture could be con- 
cerned in politics. " Mr. Herbert," no doubt, went into 



THE RICHMOND ESCAPE. 345 

town occasionally in the evenings. On the night of the 
seizure he was at the lodgings of one of the Fenian organ- 
izers (Flood) in Denzille Street, giving interviews, one by 
one, to the agents and subordinates who waited in an ante- 
room. Suddenly James O'Connor, of the Irish People, en- 
tered and asked for "the Captain." His manner was a lit- 
tle disturbed, but on being told he should wait he sat down 
quite composedly till his turn came. On being shown into 
Stephens's room, he told the news : the office was in the 
hands of the police ; Eossa and several of their comrades 
had been arrested ; search and seizure were being fiercely 
prosecuted all around. Stephens excitedly rushed into the 
anteroom with the intelligence. The assembled confederates 
exhibited their surprise and emotion in various ways. There 
was one among them particularly who displayed what looked 
like intense astonishment and concern. This was Pierce 
Nagle, the paid spy of the Government, — who knew all ! 

They separated for their homes. Mr. Stephens reached 
Fairfield House in safety, and soundly slept ; but several of 
the others found themselves in the police-cells before morn- 
ing, — with the rest, Pierce Nagle. It was only when next 
day they were brought up before the magistrates for formal 
committal that each was able to know how many of his 
friends shared his fate. Much they wondered who among 
them had played false, — who would appear at the critical 
moment in the witness-box against them ! They did not 
know he was that moment standing in their midst, 
apparently a prisoner like themselves. At length, after 
Pierce had played the role of "martyr "for a few days, it 
was deemed time for him to step forth in his true charac- 
ter, his evidence in court being required. When the day 
arrived, and their former comrade, the trusted servant and 
agent of their chief, stepped on the table as Crown witness, 
to swear them to the scaffold, the doomed men exchanged 
glances of despair, — the despair that flings hope away, not 
that which quails before disaster. 
15* 



346 NEW IRELAND. 

Two months passed by, and still all search for Stephens 
was vain. A special commission was issued for the trial of 
Luby, O'Leary, Kossa, and others, on the approaching 27th 
of November. The story now circulated and universally be- 
lieved was that Stephens had solemnly announced these men 
were in no danger, — nay, that they and their prosecutors 
would exchange positions ere many days ! Early in Novem- 
ber the Dublin police remarked that Mrs. Stephens was seen 
in Dublin very much as usual. They tracked her on several 
evenings toward Sandymount, and always lost her in the 
neighborhood of "Mr. Herbert's" house. An extra police 
force was immediately stationed in the district, and a minute 
search, house by house and road by road, was prosecuted. 
On Thursday, the 9th of November, Mrs. Stephens was ob- 
served to leave Fairfield House and proceed toward Dublin. 
She was dogged through the city and back to her home by 
female spies. The police now decided that the man they 
wanted was within their power. On Friday evening the 
house was stealthily surrounded and watched by a number 
of detectives. Many circumstances convinced them the con- 
spirator was within. That the struggle to capture him 
would be desperate and bloody was the conviction in every 
mind. About an hour before dawn on Saturday morning, 
the whole of the "G" division of police, under the personal 
command of Colonel Lake, C.B., surrounded the house. Six 
divisional inspectors scaled the garden-wall and knocked at 
the back door of the house. A voice, which two of them 
recognized as that of Stephens, asked from within, "Who is 
there? Is that Corrigan?" meaning, it would seem, the 
gardener, who usually came to his work at an early hour in 
the morning. 

The answer was, "Police." 

"I cannot let you in. I am undressed," said the C. 0. 
I. R. 

" If you do not open this instant, we will burst the door," 
rejoined Inspector Hughes. 



THE RICHMOND ESCAPE. 347 

Stephens, who was in his night-dress, ran through the hall 
to the front door, looked out, and saw that the house was 
surrounded. He returned to the back door, undid the bolts, 
and rushed up~stairs to his bedroom. He was quickly and 
closely followed by the police, who suspected some deep de- 
sign in this easy admittance. In the bedroom were Mrs. 
Stephens and her sister. Detective officers Dawson and 
Hughes reached the room at a few bounds. The former, 
who knew the Fenian chief, called out, " How are you, 
Stephens ? " 

Stephens looked angrily at the speaker, and cried, " Who 
the devil are you ? " 

" I am Dawson,"' said the detective, with professional 
pride in the conviction that every one — at all events every 
one concerned in illegal practices — must have heard of 
''Dawson." 

"Dawson! Oh, indeed! I have read about you," re- 
plied the Head Center, who leisurely proceeded to dress him- 
self. "While this scene was proceeding in Stephens's bedroom, 
the other apartments of the house had been rapidly filled 
with police, and other captures barely less important were 
effected. In a bedroom close by were found Charles J. 
Kickham, Hugh Brophy, and Edward Duffy, the latter of 
whom might have been not incorrectly called the life and 
soul of the Fenian movement west of the Shannon. Under 
their pillows were found four Colt's revolvers, loaded and 
capped. A large sum of money — nearly two thousand pounds 
in notes, gold, and drafts — was also found in the room. The 
house evidently had been provisioned as the intended refuge 
of several persons for some weeks. Large quantities of 
bacon, flour, groceries, wines, spirits, etc., were stored on the 
premises. The strong force of police in and around the 
house showed to all the captives the fruitlessness of resist- 
ance. They quietly dressed themselves, and long ere the 
neighboring dwellers were astir, or knew of the astonishing 
drama that had been enacted amidst the parterres of Fair- 



348 NEW IRELAND. 

field House, the whole party were carried off and secured 
under bolts and bars in Dublin Castle. 

It was approaching noon before the news got abroad. 
Then indeed the city broke forth into excitement that was 
not half terror. The dreaded C. 0. I. E. was actually in 
custody. Now might every one sleep with easy mind. No 
"rising" need be apprehended. No lurid flame of civil 
war would redden the midnight sky. Exultation beamed on 
every detective's face. "We have done it," might be read 
in the toss of every policeman's head as he proudly paced 
his beat. 

On the following Tuesday the four prisoners were brought 
before the magistrate in the lower Castle yard. The van 
which conveyed them was accompanied by a mounted escort 
with drawn sabers, and preceded and followed by a number 
of cars conveying policemen armed with cutlass and revolver. 
Along the route the patrols had been well strengthened, and 
every precaution taken against a rescue. There was great 
anxiety to catch a glimpse of the celebrated Fenian chief, 
who since the arrests of the 15th of September had become 
for the first time a popular hero. The police escorts and 
guards, however, prevented any one from approaching. Not 
a glance could be exchanged with the object of all this curi- 
osity. A distinguished party of viceregal visitors or friends, 
and some of the higher executive functionaries, — including 
Lord Chelmsford, Sir Eobert Peel, Colonel Lake, Mr. Wode- 
house, private secretary to the Lord- Lieutenant, and others, 
— were accommodated with seats in the magistrate's room, 
having shared the general desire for a look at "the Captain." 
Indeed it is said the lady of one of them successfully pleaded 
for a glimpse of Stephens and his colleagues while in the 
prison. When Nagle was brought in, he perceptibly trem- 
bled, and avoided meeting the gaze of the prisoners. Ste- 
phens bore himself quite coolly, nay, cavalierly. His letter 
to the Clonmel "B's" was read as evidence. When the 
clerk came to the passage declaring this should be "the 



THE RICHMOND ESCAPE. 349 

year of action,"' Stephens startled them all by loudly inter- 
jecting, " So it may be." 

Although he must have read in the public newspapers of 
the extensive seizure of letters and other documents in the 
course of the previous arrests, he seems to have kept quite a 
store of like evidence at Fairfield House. There were lists 
or rolls of the American officers ; name, ranks, traveling 
charges paid them, and the dates of sailing for Ireland. 
There was a minute, or memorandum, apparently of the 
Military Council, settling the pay in dollars which those 
officers were to receive : major-general, monthly, seven hun- 
dred and fifty dollars ; brigadier-general, four hundred dol- 
lars ; colonel (special arm), two hundred and forty-eight 
dollars ; ditto infantry line, two hundred and thirty-eight 
dollars ; lieutenant-colonel (special arm), two hundred and 
twenty-five dollars ; ditto infantry line, two hundred and 
fifteen dollars ; major (special), two hundred dollars ; cap- 
tains, of all arms, one hundred and sixty-five dollars ; lieu- 
tenants, one hundred and twenty-five dollars ; second ditto, 
one hundred and fifteen dollars. There was a list of places or- 
ganized, and of the centers in charge, a sheet of cipher-terms, 
and letters in great abundance. In truth, the documents 
seized on this occasion enabled the organization to be gripped 
far more extensively and effectually than was possible before. 

The preliminary examination extended over a couple of 
days. At its close, on Wednesday, 15th of November, the 
magistrate, previous to committing the prisoners, asked 
each if he had any observations to make. Stephens said he 
had. 

The magistrate. — "I shall be bound to take it down." 
Stephens. — " Yes ; take it down." 

Then rising to his feet and folding his arms, he said, " I 
have employed no lawyer in this case, because in making a 
defense of any kind I should be recognizing British law in 
Ireland. Now, I deliberately and conscientiously repudiate 
the existence of that law in Ireland, — its right, or even its 



350 NEW IRELAND. 

existence, in Ireland ; and I defy any punishment, and de- 
spise any punishment, it can inflict upon me. I have 
spoken it." 

What did this mean ? Ten days subsequently these words 
were recalled, with a full perception of their import. 

" Stephens has escaped ! Stephens has escaped ! " This 
was the cry which rang from end to end of Dublin on the 
morning of Saturday the 25th of November, 1865. 

" Stephens ? Escaped ? " 

" Yes ! " 

" From Richmond Bridewell ? When ? How ? Impos- 
sible !" 

Such were the exclamations or interrogations to be heard 
on every side. Stephens escaped ! Consternation — utter, 
hopeless consternation — reigned throughout the city ; that 
is to say, among the business classes. The populace were 
very differently affected. This daring achievement was all 
that was necessary to immortalize the Fenian leader. The 
police and detectives went about the streets crestfallen 
and humiliated ; while members of the Fenian fraternity 
could be pretty well identified by the flashing eye, the exult- 
ant countenance, the wild strong grip with which they 
greeted one another. 

The Fenian leaders had been confined in Richmond prison, 
awaiting their trial on the 27th of November. When built, 
fifty or sixty years ago, Richmond was one of the strongest 
jails in Ireland ; but it was entirely wanting in those facili- 
ties for supervision which the modern prisons with radiating 
corridors possess. At the head of one of the several stone 
stairs which connect the ground-floor cell system with the 
upper tier ran a short cross-corridor of six cells. The door 
between the corridor and stairhead was of heavy hammered 
iron, nearly an inch thick, and secured by a lock opening 
from either side. The cell-doors were likewise of wrought 
iron, fastened with ponderous swinging bars and padlocks. 



THE HICRMOND ESCAPE. 351 

The other end of the corridor was closed by a similar door. 
Iu these six cells, thus cut off from the rest of the prison, 
Stephens, Luby, O'Leary, Kickham, and Kossa were con- 
fined. In the sixth cell, that between Stephens and Kick- 
ham, the governor, Mr. Marquess, placed a young lad, 
named McLeod, an ordinary prisoner, with instructions to 
listen at night, and ring his cell-gong if he heard anything 
close by. Lest there might be any tampering or undue 
communication, no warder or other person was allowed in 
the corridor at night, but a warder and policeman were 
placed outside the locked door at the end opposite the stair- 
head door. At the latter no watch was deemed necessary. 
Military guards and sentries, and a detachment of police, 
had been plentifully placed in the prison when first Stephens 
was committed ; but the Castle raised a petty squabble with 
the prison board as to the expense of these men, and they 
were almost all withdrawn. A dispute over ten or twelve 
pounds cost the Government the prize for which they after- 
ward offered a thousand, and would have given five times as 
much right readily ! 

Vain were all bolts and bars, iron doors and grated win- 
dows, to hold Stephens in that prison. In anticipation of 
such a possibility as that which had occurred, some of the 
prison officers had long previously been secretly secured as 
sworn members of the "I. E. B." One, J. J. Breslin, was 
hospital superintendent ; another, Byrne, was night-watch- 
man, whose duty it was to patrol the whole building, yards, 
and passages, from "lock-up" at night to "unlock" each 
morning. Breslin had a pass-key for all interior doors ; 
Byrne had one for interior and exterior. The moment "the 
Captain" was brought in, wax impressions or molds of 
these keys were taken, and duplicates were at once manu- 
factured by an expert hand among the brotherhood in the 
city. 

As long, however, as the sentries and patrols were around, 
free access through the doors was of little advantage. For- 



352 NEW IRELAND. 

tunately for the Fenian leader, the dispute about expense 
(already referred to) drew off the danger. By Thursday the 
23 d of November the coast was clear ; and it was decided 
that on the following night his liberation must be effected. 

Night came. Lock-up and final inspection were duly com- 
pleted. The warders paraded, and gave up their pass-keys 
to be locked in the governor's safe. The watches were 
posted, and sang out, "All's well." Stephens did not go to 
bed at all. He sat up through the night, aware that some 
time between midnight and morning his deliverer would be at 
hand. The elements were propitious. For years Dublin had 
not been visited by such a storm of wind and rain as howled 
through the pitchy darkness of that night. The prison clock 
had chimed one when Stephens heard a stealthy footfall ap- 
proach. The stairhead door was unlocked. A friendly tap 
at his own door, and soon it swings open. Daniel Byrne and 
James Breslin are outside. Softly they descend the stair, 
each man now grasping a revolver, for desperate work has 
been begun. They gain the yard, and reach the boundary- 
wall at a spot outside which confederates were to be in waiting. 
They fling over the wall a few pebbles, — the pre-arranged 
signal. In answer a small sod of grass is thrown to them from 
the other side. Then they bring from the lunatic prisoners' 
day-room, which is close by, two long tables, which they lay 
against the wall. A rope is thrown over, which Byrne and 
Breslin are to hold while Stephens descends by it on the outer 
side. He mounts the tables ; he gains the top, and swings 
into the arms of his friends below. Though rain is falling 
in torrents, and each one is drenched to the skin, they bound 
with joy and embrace effusively. Stephens is hurried off 
with a single attendant to the asylum already selected for him 
in the city. Breslin retires to his room in the prison, and 
Byrne resumes his duty patrol ! 

At five o'clock in the morning Mr. Philpots, deputy gov- 
ernor, was excitedly called by Byrne, who, faithful and vigi- 
lant officer that he was, reported that he had found two tables 



THE RICHMOND ESCAPE. 353 

in the yard close by the boundary- wall, and much he feared 
that something had gone wrong.* They ran to the governor 
and aroused him. All hurried to the corridor where the 
Fenians ought to be. Lo ! one of the cell-doors ajar, and 
the "C. 0. I. R." flown. All the others— Luby, Kickham, 
O'Leary, Kossa — were safe and sound, but the man of men 
for them was gone ! 

Mr. Marquess asked McLeod if he had heard any noise. 
Yes, he had, about one o'clock in the morning ; he heard 
some one open the end door, come to Stephens's cell, and 
unlock it. 

" Why did you not pull your gong, as I told you to do ? " 
asked the distracted governor. 

"Because I knew whoever was doing this was likely to be 
armed, and could open my cell also, and take my life," was 
the intelligent and indeed conclusive answer. 

At no time probably since Emmet's insurrection were the 
Irish executive authorities thrown into such dismay and con- 
fusion as on this occasion. They now realized what it was to 
deal with a secret society. Whom could they trust ? How 
could they measure their danger ? Very evidently the ground 
beneath them was mined in all directions. Uncertainty mag- 
nified every danger. Meantime, the most desperate efforts 
were made to recapture Stephens. Cavalry scoured the coun- 
try round. Police scattered all over the city, particularly 
in suspected neighborhoods, ransacked houses, tore down 
wainscoting, ripped up flooring, searched garrets, cellars, 
coal-holes. Telegrams went flying all over the kingdom; 
steamers were stopped and the passengers examined ; gun- 
boats put to sea and overhauled and searched fishing-smacks 

* A few days later on Byrne was arrested. A copy of the Fenian 
oath and other seditious documents were found in his desk within the 
prison ; but the Crown would not bring home to him the charge of aid- 
ing Stephens's escape. Breslin remained unsuspected in the prison ser- 
vice for several months subsequently, when he took leave of absence, 
fled to America, and there proudly avowed all. 



354 NEW IRELAND. 

and coasters. Flaming placards appeared with " One 
Thousand Pounds Reward " in large letters announcing the 
escape, and offering a high price for the lost one. The " C. 
0. I. R." was all this time, and for a long period subse- 
quently, secreted in the house of a Mrs. Butler of Summer 
Hill, a woman of humble means.* She knew her peril in 
sheltering him. She knew what would be her reward in sur- 
rendering him. She was poor, and could any moment earn 
one thousand pounds by giving merely a hint to the author- 
ities. Stephens confided himself implicitly into her hands, 
and he did not trust her in vain. 

One Sunday evening about three mouths afterward a 
handsome open carriage-and-four drove through the streets 
of the Irish metropolis, two stalwart footmen seated in the 
dickey behind. Two gentlemen reclined lazily on the cush- 
ioned seat within. They proceeded northward through 
Malahide and toward Balbriggan. Near the latter place, 
close by the sea, the carriage stopped. One of the occupants 
got out, and walked down to the shore, where a boat was in 
waiting. He entered, and was pulled off to a lugger in the 
offing. The carriage returned to Dublin. The " coachman," 
"postilion," "footmen," and companion were all picked 
men of the " I. R. B.," and were armed to the teeth. The 
gentleman placed on board the lugger, now speeding down 
the Channel with flowing sheets for France, was James 
Stephens, the "Central Organizer of the Irish Republic." 

* She died a few years ago in a public hospital of the city. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

INSURRECTION ! 

For three weary years Ireland endured the perils and 
pains of a smoldering insurrection. Stephens's decree as to 
the " year of action " came to naught : 18G5 went out gloom- 
ily enough, but without the expected convulsion. Still, 
every one could discern that the danger had by no means 
blown over. The Fenians, it was well known, were making 
strenuous efforts to repair the gaps made in their ranks, and 
to recover themselves for a stroke in force. The two years 
which followed the first arrests were little else than a pro- 
jtracted struggle between the Government and the secret 
organization. The former was striking out vehemently, 
smashing through circles, pouncing on councils, seizing cen- 
ters, destroying communications, raiding right and left 
through the shattered lines of the "I. R. B." The latter, 
on the other hand, undeterred by disaster, went on, clinging 
desperately and doggedly to the work of reconstruction. As 
fast as seizures swept off leaders, others stepped into the 
vacant posts. Court-house, dock, and prison-van were filled 
and emptied again and again. Assize and commission, com- 
mission and assize, took their dismal turn. The deadly duel 
went on. It seemed interminable. 

T. C. Luby was the first of the prisoners brought to the 
bar. His trial lasted for four days, — from the 28th of No- 
vember to the 1st of December, 1865, inclusive. He had for 
his leading counsel Mr. Isaac Butt, whose masterly abilities 
in previous State trials, the theme of national praise, were 
displayed even more conspicuously now. But there was no 

355 



356 NEW IRELAND. 

struggling - against the overwhelming evidence of documents 
preserved by the conspirators themselves. The " Clonmel 
letter " and the " executive commission" sealed the doom of 
the three men who were incontestably the ablest and most 
prominent of the Fenian leaders. Luby was found guilty 
and condemned to penal servitude for twenty years. While 
the jury in his case were absent from court deliberating on 
their verdict, O'Leary was put to the bar. On the 6th of 
December his trial closed with a conviction and a sentence 
of twenty years' penal servitude. Next came Eossa. He 
dismissed the lawyers and announced that he meant to con- 
duct his own defense. Never was such a scene witnessed in 
that court-house ! "He cross-examined the informers in 
fierce fashion," says an eye-witness ; " he badgered the detec- 
tives, he questioned the police, he debated with the Crown 
lawyers, he argued with the judges, he fought with the Crown 
side all round. But it was when the last of the witnesses 
had gone off the table that he set to work in good earnest. 
He took up the various publications that had been put in 
evidence against him, and claimed his legal right to read 
them all through. One of them was the file of the Irish 
People for the whole term of its existence ! Horror sat upon 
the faces of judges, jurymen, sheriffs, lawyers, turnkeys, and 
all, when the prisoner gravely informed them that as a com- 
promise he would not insist upon reading the advertisements ! 
The fight went on throughout the livelong day, till the usual 
hour of adjournment had come and gone, aud the prisoner 
himself was feeling parched and weary and exhausted. Ob- 
serving that the lights were being now renewed, and that 
their lordships appeared satisfied to sit out the night, he anx- 
iously inquired if the proceedings were not to be adjourned 
till morning. "Proceed, sir," was the stern reply of the 
judge, who knew that the physical powers of the prisoner 
could not hold out much longer. " A regular Norbury ! " 
gasped O'Donovan. "It's like a '98 trial." "You had 
better proceed with propriety," exclaimed the judge. 



INSURRECTION! 357 

" When do you propose stopping, my lord ? " again inquired 
the prisoner. "Proceed, sir," was the reiterated reply. 
O'Donovan could stand it no longer. He had been reading 
and speaking for eight hours and a half. With one final 
protest, he sat down, exclaiming that " English law might 
now take its course."' 

On the day following this remarkable scene, Eossa was 
sentenced to penal servitude for life, an excess of punishment 
over that assigned to his colleagues, arising out of the fact 
that he had been adjudged guilty on a like charge in 1858, 
and had then been released on bond of "good behavior," and 
an undertaking to appear for sentence when called on. 

Many of the prisoners were military men, and to these 
trial by the civil tribunal was rigidly denied. The courts- 
martial had a grim sensation of their own ; for flogging was 
often portion of the sentence inflicted ; and that revolting 
spectacle, which no one who has ever looked on it would 
willingly behold again, shocked the Dublin public from time 
to time. 

It was not the power and arms of the British Government 
alone that operated to disorganize and destroy the Fenian 
movement. Dissension and revolt among its leaders broke 
its power. Before two years Stephens was the object of fierce 
denunciation from his own followers, and John O'Mahony 
was deposed and degraded by the Senate of the American 
Branch, over which he had so long presided. In each case 
the dethroned or impeached leaders had numerous partisans, 
so that the unity of the organization on each side of the 
Atlantic was at an end. 

Stephens, having remained a short time in France, after 
his escape from Ireland, proceeded to America, and sought 
to bring the sundered sections of the brotherhood there under 
his own sole authority. But although in Ireland he was still 
believed in and obeyed implicitly as ever, already among the 
circles on the other side his pretensions and his abilities were 
being severely canvassed. He found but few willing to con- 



358 NEW IRELAND. 

stitute him a dictator, and this he would be or nothing. The 
more resolute and influential Fenian party in the States dis- 
carded him altogether, and, on the policy of "striking Eng- 
land where they could," attempted the daring design of an 
invasion of Canada. This was of course utterly frustrated 
by the interference of the American Government ; and a loud 
outcry was raised by the Irish that they had been cheated by 
the Washington authorities. The promises or intimations 
held out when recruits were needed during the Civil War 
were now found to be mere skillful lures to catch an ardent 
and soldierly race more full of courage than of wisdom. 
This Canadian failure was used by Stephens to the reproach 
of those who had declined his discretion, and now he said he 
would show them the right road. He would return to Ire- 
land and unfurl the flag of revolution. Once more he em- 
phatically declared for "this year." At a public meeting in 
Jones's Wood, New York, he reiterated the pledge, sealing 
his declaration with a solemn oath. This announcement, 
made in the autumn of 1866, plunged Ireland anew into the 
whirl of startling rumors and wild alarms. 

The insurrection, or attempted insurrection, of 1867 was 
one of those desperate and insensate proceedings into which 
men involved in a ruined cause sometimes madly plunge, 
rather than bow to the disgrace and dishonor of defeat with- 
out a blow. Stephens spent all the latter half of 1866 in 
endeavors to raise money in America for the newly-promised 
rising. Again and again he announced that 1866 would not 
pass away without the tocsin-call to arms, and that he, James 
Stephens, would be on Irish soil to perish or conquer. Sin- 
ister insinuations began to creep about that he would do 
nothing of what he vowed ; but these were silenced by an- 
nouncements in November that he had left America and 
sailed for Ireland. Then indeed the Irish Government stood 
to arms. Then did alarm once more paralyze all minds. It 
seemed as if the worst reality would be less painful than this 
prolonged uncertainty and recurring panic. War-steamers 



INSURRECTION! 359 

cruised around the island. Every harbor and landing-place 
was watched. Every fishing-boat was searched. Every pas- 
senger was scrutinized. Each morning people scanned the 
papers eagerly to learn if the Rebel Chief had yet been dis- 
covered. As the last week of 1866 approached, the public 
apprehension became almost unbearable. Until the great 
clock of the General Post-Office had chimed midnight on the 
31st of December, and Christ Church bells rang in the new 
year, the belief that an explosion was at hand could not be 
shaken. 

Stephens had not stirred from America. All this time he 
was secreted in the house of a friend in Brooklyn. He did 
not venture on Irish soil either to conquer or to perish. He 
realized the hopelessness of the attempt he had sworn to 
undertake, and preferred to face the rage and scorn of his 
followers rather than the perils that awaited him in Ireland. 
He had no ambition to occupy a cell beside Luby and Kick- 
ham in Millbank or Woking. In truth, the Irish Fenian 
Chief may be said at this point to have disappeared from 
the scene. Scorning to defend himself, he has ever since 
remained silent alike under blame and praise. Intolerant, 
unscrupulous, and relentless himself in his day of power, 
he has been the victim of many a wrong and been pursued 
by many a hate in his fall. The absurd exaggeration of his 
abilities which once prevailed has been followed by a mon- 
strously unjust depreciation of them. He was a born con- 
spirator ; and, though comrades and subordinates have 
Changed idolatry for execration, Stephens must be ranked 
as one of the ablest, most skillful, and most dangerous revo- 
lutionists of our time. 

The shouts of derision which arose over this Stephens 
fiasco cut like daggers to the hearts of the men in Ireland 
and America who clung with invincible tenacity to the fatal 
purpose of an armed struggle. At every check and reverse 
which befell the Fenian enterprise the English newspapers 
wrote confidently of the " collapse" and "termination." 



360 NEW IRELAND. 

" The end of it" was announced and gravely written upon 
a score of times between 18G5 and 1868, and morals and 
lessons were preached from what was regarded as a past 
transaction. While a general chorus of felicitation was 
being raised in the press over this the " really final disap- 
pearance" of the Fenian specter, the Government became 
aware, early in 1867, that " the men at home," discarding 
reliance on American aid (beyond the assistance of the nu- 
merous military staff still concealed in the country), meant 
to strike at last. 

At a secret council of delegates held in Dublin, the 12th 
of February was fixed on for a simultaneous rising; and 
word to this intent was sent throughout the island. A day 
or two previous to this date it was decided to postpone pro- 
ceedings to the 5th of March. The countermand failed to 
reach in time the Fenian captain in command at Cahir- 
civeen ; and on Wednesday, 13th of February, the news 
rang out that West Kerry was aflame. From Killarney 
came word that the wires westward were all cut, that a 
mounted policeman carrying dispatches had been captured 
and shot, that coast-guard stations and police barracks had 
been disarmed, and that the Iverah hills "swarmed" with 
men. Much of this was exaggeration ; but the worst was 
believed for the time. The gentry of the neighborhood 
flocked into Killarney, bringing their wives and children, 
and many of them their plate, jewels, and other valuables. 
They took possession of the railway hotel, and, assisted by 
some military and police, set about fortifying it. A stock 
of provisions was laid in. The ladies made bags which the 
gentlemen filled with sand and piled in the windows. Arms 
were distributed, sentries posted, scouts sent out, and urgent 
appeals for aid were telegraphed to Dublin Castle. Mean- 
time, from Dublin, Cork, and Limerick military hastened 
to the place, as many as three express-trains being dispatched 
with troops from the Curragh camp within twenty-four 
hours of the alarm. What had really happened was that 



INSURRECTION! 361 

the Cahirciveen insurrectionary contingent, unaware of the 
countermand that had reached all other places, marched out 
on the night of the 12th, to meet, as they believed, the 
forces from neighboring districts. It was only after they 
had approached Killarney that they discovered how the 
facts lay, and they forthwith dispersed as best they could. 
The district being so wild and mountainous, and communi- 
cation so difficult, it was a week before the Government 
authorities could realize that all was over, — that Iverah, as 
that portion of the county is called, was not in the posses- 
sion of a powerful rebel force. Headed by the local gentry, 
parties of military and police commenced the "surround- 
ing" of mountains and the "beating" of woods supposed to 
conceal forces as numerous and desperate as those roused by 
the whistle of Koderick Vich Alpine Dhu. Ever and anon 
as a wild deer broke from his cover in the fern a shout 
would arise. "Here they are!" Bugles sounded; the 
troops closed in for a dash at the enemy, but found he was 
only the antlered lord of the glen ! 

Elsewhere, work much more serious had very nearly fol- 
lowed upon a like failure in the Fenian countermand. 

It was resolved that the circles of Lancashire should co- 
operate with the Dublin movement by a proceeding which 
for daring and audacity could hardly be excelled. They had 
information that Chester Castle contained some twenty 
thousand stand of arms, besides accouterments and ammu- 
nition to a large extent, and that the place had only a 
nominal garrison. A Fenian military council in Liverpool 
decided to attack Chester Castle, seize the arms, cut the 
telegraph wires, "impress" the railway rolling-stock, load 
trains with men and arms, and make for Holyhead. Here 
they were to seize all the steamers in port, and speed for 
Dublin, in the expectation of landing in that city before in- 
telligence of their astounding feat could possibly have 
reached Ireland ! 

It is now admitted that they would have succeeded, at all 
16 



362 NEW IRELAND. 

events so far as capturing Chester Castle, were it not that at 
the secret council which sat to complete the arrangements 
there was present John Joseph Corydon, one of Stephens's 
most trusted agents, high in the confidence of the conspira- 
tors, — and deep in the pay of the Government. Corydon 
carried the news of the projected attack on Chester to Major 
Gregg, Chief Constable of Liverpool. It was subsequently 
alleged, but disputed, that nearly a whole day was lost by 
the authorities through their utter incredulity as to this 
sensational story. Certainly it was only within a few hours 
of the time fixed for the attack that its imminence was real- 
ized. By all the morning trains from Manchester, Bolton, 
Warrington, etc., numbers of able-bodied Irishmen were ob- 
served to arrive at Chester. They lounged carelessly about 
in small parties, and seemed to be awaiting others. Sud- 
denly the chief constable of Chester and the colonel of the 
military received telegrams which must have taken their 
breath away. The guards on the Castle were instantly 
doubled ; the police marched out ; mounted expresses 
dashed off in all directions. Soon troops began to arrive 
from Birkenhead as fast as special trains could bring them. 
Very quickly the loitering groups were observed to disperse, 
on some whispered message reaching them. They poured 
into every train, returning to the towns they had left in the 
morning. They had got word that the plot was "blown 
upon" by some traitor, and must be abandoned. Some of 
them were observed to fling revolvers into the Dee. A large 
party took the train to Holyhead, and the North- wall boat 
to Dublin. The moment they touched Irish ground they 
were arrested and marched off to Kilmainham prison. 

Before our minds had recovered from the perplexity and 
confusion which these events created, we found ourselves in 
the midst of the long- threatened and gloomily-apprehended 
f< rising." On the night of Monday the 4th or morning of 
Tuesday the 5th of March, 1867, the Fenian circles took the 
field. Cork, Tipperary, Dublin, Louth, Limerick, Clare, 



INSURRECTION! 363 

and Waterford alone responded in any appreciable degree to 
the revolutionary summons. For two days previously it 
was little secret that the event was at hand. Young men 
took leave of friends ; clerks closed up their accounts, so 
that no imputation on their honesty might arise ; and on 
the evening of Monday crowds of men between the ages of 
seventeen and fifty were noticed thronging the churches. 
The outbreak was crushed in its birth. The Government, 
through Corydon, knew of the most secret and important 
arrangements beforehand. The dismay and demoralization 
produced in the insurgent ranks by the clear signs and proofs 
that some one high in position among them must be betray- 
ing everything did more than bullet or sword to disperse 
and quell the movement. The Limerick Junction station, 
on the Great Southern and Western Eailway, was recognized 
as a point of considerable strategic importance ; and as it 
was in the heart of the most disaffected district in Ireland — 
Tipperary, Cork, and Limerick — it offered great advantages 
as the center of operations in the South. Brigadier-General 
Massey was appointed to take command of the insurrection 
at this point. He had been awaiting in Cork the signal for 
action. On the evening of the 4th of March he took his 
place in the up mail train and reached the junction about 
twelve o'clock. As he stepped out of the railway-carriage 
he found himself in the grasp of four detectives, as many 
loaded revolvers being pointed at his head. He gave one 
hurried glance around, and saw that the platform was occu- 
pied by military under arms. Then this man who had faced 
death a hundred times amidst the carnage of the American 
civil war fell senseless in a swoon ! In a few moments he 
was hurried off to Dublin under a strong guard, the author- 
ities being fully aware of the value of their capture.* This 

* Great was the astonishment of every one when a few weeks subse- 
quently it was told that General Massey had turned Queen's evidence. 
In a sense he had ; but he was no spy who remained in ranks he 
meant to betray. His story is that, finding some one of five men who 



364 NEW IRELAND. 

stroke practically disposed of tlie South of Ireland. Ere 
morning the news had spread that the position on which 
the numerous local bodies were to converge was occupied by- 
Government troops, horse, foot, and artillery; worse still, 
that General Massey was a prisoner and by this time filled 
a dungeon in Dublin Castle. The effect was what might be 
expected. Mustering groups broke up ; bodies on their way 
to the rendezvous turned back and sought home again. In 
Kilmallock, county Limerick, a serious conflict took place. 
An armed band, numbering about two hundred men, took 
possession of the town, the police retreating to their bar- 
racks, — a strong building, well able to stand a siege. While 
one party of the insurgents kept up a brisk fire on the bar- 
racks, another proceeded through the town, and searching 
every house seized all the arms that could be found. A cir- 
cumstance ever since remembered to their credit in the lo- 
cality deserves notice. There were two banks in the place, 
each containing a large sum of money in gold, silver, and 
notes ; yet, although any guns or pistols on the bank premises 
were brought away, not a penny of the money was touched. 
In fact, private property was most scrupulously respected, al- 
though the town was for a time completely in their hands. * 
About ten o'clock in the forenoon a party of armed constab- 
ulary from Kilfinane arrived unexpectedly on the rear of the 
assailants at the barracks, and quickly compelled them to fly. 
In this affray several lives were lost. The police, being 
under cover, escaped with scarcely any casualty. The mana- 
ger of one of the banks, who it was said drew a revolver on 
the rebel captain, was fired at and wounded by the latter. 
One of the insurgents who was killed was utterly unknown 

held the whole conspiracy in their hands (he did not then know it was 
Corydon) was evidently betraying it, he, pondering the case in his cell, 
came to the conclusion that the sooner the whole business was burst 
up and stopped the less victims would there be. 

* A sum of ten pounds found in a letter seized on a captured police 
orderly was " confiscated," the distinction being evidently drawn be- 
tween what they considered Government money and private funds. 



INSURRECTION! 3G5 

in the neighborhood ; and the people subsequently raised 
over his grave "a stone without a name." This lamentable 
encounter at Kilmallock was persisted in notwithstanding 
the fact that news of the disaster at the Junction had caused 
numbers of the insurgents to disperse. The truth is, the 
arrest on the previous evening of Mr. W. H. O'Sullivan 
(now senior member of Parliament for Limerick), one of 
the most popular men in that district, had caused strong in- 
dignation and excitement among the people. He was be- 
lieved to be unconnected with the Fenian society, and his 
arrest was regarded as an act of wanton and arbitrary severity. 
But for the exasperation arising out of this incident, it was 
thought by many Kilmallock might have been spared the 
painfully prominent part it played in the "rising" of '67. 

In the metropolis the attempt at insurrection was an utter 
failure. From eight o'clock in the evening until an hour 
before midnight, bodies of men, young and old, streamed 
out of the city by all its southern outlets. The residents 
along the several routes in many cases stood at the doors 
watching the throng go by, and vainly asking what it was 
all about. Of course the police and the Government knew ; 
and such non-Fenian civilians as also happened to divine 
what was afoot marveled greatly to note that the police in 
no way interfered with the intending insurgents. It after- 
ward transpired that Sir Hugh Eose, commander-in-chief, 
gave the word to let all who would go out, and he would 
take care how they got in. That is to say, he preferred to 
deal with the difficulty in the open, and not in the streets of 
a crowded city. A place called Tallaght, about four or five 
miles due south of Dublin, and lying at the base of a chain 
of mountains stretching into Wicklow, Kildare, and Carlow, 
was named as the rebel rendezvous, General Halpin being 
in command. The very simple expedient of preventing any 
assemblage at all — of receiving the first comers with a deadly 
volley, and causing all others approaching to know that the 
gathering was already disastrously dispersed — very effectu- 



366 NEW IRELAND. 

ally disposed of the insurgent plan. It was a most complete 
collapse. Not one-fourth of the number who set out for the 
place ever reached Tallaght at all. Had they once got 
together, no doubt a severe struggle and a deplorable loss 
of life might have resulted. Happily only two men were 
killed, and a dozen or more wounded. A party marching 
from Kingstown captured the police barracks at Stepaside 
and Glencullen, disarming the policemen, but offering them 
no further harm. This band, like all the others, on arriving 
near Tallaght, met fugitive groups announcing that all was 
over. By a little after midnight further attempt was uni- 
versally abandoned. Of the two or three thousand men who 
had quitted Dublin in the evening, hundreds were arrested 
on the canal bridges, whereby alone they could re-enter the 
city, while others, scattering through the hills, endeavoring 
to escape by way of Kildare or Wicklow, were pursued in 
all directions by the royal lancers and dragoons. 

In the neighborhood of Cork city the rising attained to its 
most formidable dimensions, if indeed it could have been said 
to be formidable even for a moment anywhere. At Midle- 
ton, Castlemartyr, Ballyknockane, and other places, the police 
barracks were attacked. In most cases the police, defending 
themselves with great courage against what for aught they 
knew might have been overwhelming forces, put their assail- 
ants to flight. In some instances, however, the insurgents 
were successful, and again it is to be noted that they used 
their brief hour of triumph humanely and honorably. At 
Ballyknockane, where the celebrated Captain Mackay was 
in command, they surrounded the barrack and demanded its 
surrender in the name of the Irish Eepublic. " The police 
fired," says a trustworthy account, " and the fire was returned. 
Then the insurgents broke in the door and set fire to the 
lower part of the barrack. Still the police held out. ' Sur- 
render ! ' cried the insurgents : ' you want to commit suicide, 
but we don't want to commit murder.' One of the policemen 
then cried out that a little girl, his daughter, was inside, and 



INSURRECTION! 367 

asked if the attacking party would allow her to be passed 
out. Of course they would, gladly ; and the little girl was 
taken out of the window with all tenderness, and given up 
to her mother, who had chanced to be outside the barrack 
when the attack commenced. At this time a Catholic clergy- 
man, the Rev. Mr. Neville, came on the spot. He asked the 
insurgent leader whether, if the police surrendered, any harm 
would be done to them. 'Here is my revolver,' said Captain 
Mackay : ' let the contents of it be put through me if one of 
them should be injured.'" 

Tipperary was bound to be in the front if fighting was 
going on. General T. F. Burke was commander here. But 
in Tipperary the story was the same as in Dublin, in Limer- 
ick, in Cork, and in Drogheda. The insurgents were utterly 
destitute of armament or equipment that could enable them 
for a moment to withstand disciplined forces. Courage, for- 
titude, endurance, the hapless people indubitably displayed ; 
but as to preparation or resource, a more lunatic attempt at 
revolution the world never saw. 

I have so far attributed the easy quelling of this insurrec- 
tion to the fact that the Government, through their spies, 
were virtually behind the scenes, and were able to anticipate 
and check every move of their foes. But it is a public fact, 
very singular in its nature, that the elements, in a large de- 
gree, contributed to this result, — a circumstance universally 
remarked upon at the time. On the evening of the 5th of 
March there set in all over Ireland a snow-storm for which 
there has been no parallel since, and was none for half a cen- 
tury before. For five days, with scarcely a moment's inter- 
mission, from leaden skies the flakes came down, until in 
some places the snow lay three and four feet deep. Eoads 
were impassable, and on the mountains a Siberian spectacle 
met the view. The troops on service suffered severely ; 
cavalry horses perished in numbers. But, after all, the 
troops had safe and comfortable barracks or billets to rest in 
at night ; whereas a guerilla warfare, involving life on the 



368 NEW IRELAND. 

unsheltered hill-side, was the main reliance of the insur- 
gents. There was no attempting to cope with this fearful 
down-pour, accompanied as it was by a piercing hurricane. 
Jubilant after-dinner citizens in Dublin, reclining before a 
blazing fire, rubbed their hands and recalled how in the days 
of Philip's Armada and Hoche's expedition the heavens 
themselves fortunately seemed to fight on the side of Eng- 
land. 

News of the rising was flashed by Atlantic cable to Amer- 
ica, and as that wonderful wire never minimizes a sensation, 
the American papers teemed with accounts unbridled in 
their exaggeration and extravagance. Ireland was in arms ! 
Nearly the whole of the southern province was in the hands 
of the insurgents ! The smoke of battle clouded every 
Irish hill ! The red cross of St. George still flew over 
Dublin Castle, but elsewhere, east and west, it was sorely 
pressed! 

Notwithstanding the sickening disheartenment which pre- 
vious Fenian attempts and failures had produced, the Irish 
millions in the States were filled with excitement and sym- 
pathy. Wise friends cried out to "Wait a week." A fort- 
night's later news toned down the telegraphic story a good 
deal : still there were hearts bounding for the fray, beyond 
all possibility of restraint. 

On the 12th of April, 1867, there lay off Sandy Hook a 
brigantine of about two hundred tons burden, loaded and 
ready to put to sea. The freight she had received consisted 
of " pianos," "sewing-machines," and "wine in casks:" 
at least piano-cases, sewing-machine-cases, aud wine-barrels 
filled her hold. The goods were all directed and consigned 
to a merchant firm in Cuba. This was the good ship 
- " Jacknell," well known in the West India trade, and flying 
the Stars and Stripes at her main. On the date above men- 
tioned a party of forty or fifty men, almost all of whom had 
been officers or privates in the American army, got on board 
a small steamer at one of the New York wharves and started 



INSURRECTION! 369 

as if for a trip down the bay. They carried no luggage what- 
ever, and there was nothing about their movements to excite 
particular attention. They reached Sandy Hook, and 
rounded to under the stern of the "Jacknell." The "ex- 
cursionists " boarded her, and the steamer returned without 
them to New York. That night the "Jacknell" set sail, 
steering toward the West Indies. Her real destination was 
Ireland ; her errand to assist the insurrection. The piano- 
cases held no pianos ; the barrels contained no wine ; but 
deftly packed in them were five thousand stand of arms, 
three pieces of field-artillery, and two hundred thousand 
cartridges. The party consisted of General J. E. Kerrigan, 
Colonel S. E. Tresilian, Colonel John Warren, Colonel Na- 
gle, Lieutenant Augustine E. Costello, Captain Kavanagh, 
and a number of others. Having steered for twenty-four 
hours to the southward, they changed their course and 
headed for Ireland. On the 29th of April, being Easter 
Sunday, sealed orders were opened, commissions were dis- 
tributed, the Irish Sunburst* was hoisted and hailed with a sal- 
ute from their three field-pieces, the vessel's name was changed 
to the "Erin's Hope," and all on board kept high festival. 
An astonishing enterprise it was, truly, to set out across the 
Atlantic in this little brigantine for a hostile landing on the 
Irish coast, watched as it was at every point by cruisers on 
the sea and coast-guard sentinels on shore ! Their destina- 
tion was Sligo Bay, which they reached on the 20th of May. 
They stood on and off for a day or two, until they were 
boarded by an agent from their friends on shore ! His ac- 
count of the true state of affairs widely contrasted with the 
flaming telegrams of the New Yorh Herald that had hur- 
ried them on this mission. A landing in Sligo he told them 
was impossible, but they were, he said, to make an effort to 
get the arms and ammunition on shore somewhere on the 

* The ancient Irish war-banner, — a golden sun-blaze on a green 
standard. 

1G* 



370 NEW IRELAND. 

southern coast. Meantime, intelligence had reached the 
Government that a suspicious-looking craft was hovering off 
the western harbors. Quickly the Queenstown and Valencia 
gunboats were on the alert, and for a fortnight the "Erin's 
Hope " had a perilous time of it running the gauntlet night 
and day. By this time she had been sixty-two days at sea, 
and the stock of water and provisions on board was nearly 
exhausted. There was nothing for it but to land the bulk 
of the party forthwith, and return to America with as many 
as the rations would support on the voyage. Off Helvick 
Head, near Dungarvan, they hailed a fishing-boat, and when 
she came alongside some thirty of the party, to the fisher- 
men's great surprise, jumped in. The "Jacknell" turned 
to sea, and the boatmen rowed the strangers on shore. Their 
landing was observed by a coast-guard lookout ; messages 
were dispatched to the police-stations around ; and ere many 
hours every man of the "Jacknell " detachment was lodged 
in a prison. All that the Government really knew, how- 
ever, was that the proceeding was mysterious and suspicious. 
The men were unarmed. The Helvick landing was as yet 
unconnected with the appearance of the vessel in Sligo Bay ; 
and for weeks (during which time the prisoners were care- 
fully guarded in Kilmainham prison) the whole subject oc- 
casioned the greatest perplexity in Dublin Castle. At length, 
under skillful treatment, the reticence of one of the captives 
gave way. He disclosed all to the Government, and at the 
ensuing commission the whole of his companions stood in- 
dicted for treason-felony. 

Two important legal points were raised on the trials which 
ensued. First, whether any hostile act had been committed 
within British jurisdiction ; secondly, whether American citi- 
zens of Irish birth would have their American status recog- 
nized and be allowed a mixed jury. Colonel Warren, a 
native of Clonakilty, in Cork County, but a duly-naturalized 
citizen of the United States, was the first put on his trial. 
When the jury came to be impaneled, Mr. Heron, Q.C., 



INSURRECTION I 371 

produced the prisoner's naturalization-papers and claimed 
for him a jury mediatate lingua. The presiding judge fully 
realized the gravity of the point which he was about to de- 
cide ; but the law as it then stood was clear ; no subject of 
the British Crown could divest himself of allegiance ; and so 
he ruled. An ordinary jury was sworn, whereupon — 

Prisoner. — "As a citizen of the United States I protest 
against being arraigned at this bar." 

The Chief Baron. — "We cannot hear any statement from 
you now ; your counsel will speak for you if necessary." 

Prisoner. — "My citizenship is ignored, and I have in- 
structed my counsel to withdraw. The Government of the 
United States has now become the principal." 

The prisoner's counsel withdrew, Colonel Warren refusing 
to make any defense. He was convicted, and on Saturday, 
16th of November, 1867, was sentenced to fifteen years' 
penal servitude. His youthful comrade, Lieutenant Augus- 
tine Costello, was next arraigned. He likewise was found 
guilty, and consigned to twelve years of a similar punish- 
ment. 

These proceedings led to one of the most important altera- 
tions of British law effected in our time. The ancient and 
fundamental maxim of perpetual allegiance had been reso- 
lutely held to and maintained by England through centuries. 
The American Government, on the other hand, though it had 
meanly abandoned Colonel Warren, found it indispensable 
to vindicate the position he had asserted on his trial. The 
whole fabric of American power stood upon that doctrine ; 
and once more England and America were in utter conflict 
upon its application. Happily, instead of resorting to the 
arbitrament of battle, as in 1812, the two Governments en- 
tered into active negotiations with a view to adjusting so 
serious a difficulty. The United States had nothing to 
change. It was for England to alter her law of allegiance ; 
and so she did. In 1870, the Act 33 and 31 Vict. cap. 14, 
known (in Ireland at least) as the "Warren and Costello 



372 NEW IRELAND. 

Act," was passed through Parliament ; and now a British- 
born subject may, by certain formalities, divest himself of 
his birth-allegiance and adopt another citizenship. 

With the close of the " Jacknell " trials we all fondly hoped 
there was an end of this sad and weary work of seizures and 
arrests, of outbreaks and alarms. A mournful disappoint- 
ment awaited us. 



' 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE SCAFFOLD AND THE CELL. 

No incidents, probably, in the struggles of Irish disaffec- 
tion within this century more deeply incensed the English 
people than two which occurred toward the close of 1867. 
These were the Manchester Eescue and the Clerkenwell Ex- 
plosion. It is not astonishing that the latter outrage should 
leave behind a bitter memory. * The slaughter of innocent 
citizens, little ones maimed and disfigured for life, families 
decimated and homes ruined, — these are things no mind can 
calmly dwell upon. Yet there is no good end to be served 
by making the crime, at best atrocious, more hideous than 
truth warrants. Gross stupidity on the part of a few mis- 
erable Irish laborers, — men blindly ignorant of the full 
power and reach of a gunpowder-explosion, — not design or 
thought of hurting life or limb, was accountable for that 
bloody scene. Had the man whose rescue was to be accom- 
plished by " driving a hole through the boundary- wall " 
been inside at the spot where his would-be liberators were 
told he was to be, he would have been blown into eternity. 
The consequences that resulted from their act — the effect of 

* On the 13th of December, 1867, a barrel containing gunpowder 
was exploded against the outer wall of Clerkenwell Prison, Lon- 
don, by Fenian sympathizers, with a view of driving a hole through 
the wall, inside which at that time a Fenian prisoner, named Burke, 
was expected to be exercising. The whole of the wall for sixty yards 
was blown in with a fearful crash. Some tenement-houses on the 
opposite side of the street, inhabited by very poor people, were demol- 
ished, twelve persons being killed and one hundred and twenty maimed 
or wounded. 

373 



374 NEW IRELAND. 

that explosion on the neighboring dwellings — never one. 
crossed the imaginations of the wretched perpetrators. Yet 
even when so much is said for truth and justice, the affair 
is one from which a sensitive mind recoils, and anything 
like excuse of which were almost criminal. 

The Manchester Rescue, however, though classed in the 
same category, — "the murder of Sergeant Brett," as it is 
called by most Englishmen, — was of wholly different com- 
plexion. That the life of Sergeant Brett was lost on that 
occasion is most true and most lamentable. That it was lost 
by misadventure, not sacrificed by design, those best quali- 
fied to know assert, and the Irish people fervently believe. 
That three lives were offered up on the scaffold to avenge 
that one, is a fact on public record. 

On the fall or deposition of James Stephens from the 
leadership of the Fenian party, his place was taken by Colo- 
nel Thomas J. Kelly. lie it was who, after the arrests at 
Fairfield House, assumed the command of Fenian affairs in 
Ireland. He, moreover, planned, directed, and personally 
superintended the rescue of Stephens from Richmond, and 
his subsequent escape to France. After the rising of March, 
18G7, Kelly remained some six months or more in Dublin, 
and toward the close of October crossed to Manchester, to 
attend a council of the English "centers." Shortly before 
daybreak on the morning of the 11th of September, police- 
men on duty in Oak Street, Manchester, noticed four men 
loitering suspiciously in the neighborhood of a ready-made- 
clothing shop. From expressions which they overheard, 
the police concluded that these men were bent on some 
illegal purpose, and attempted to arrest them. In the strug- 
gle which ensued, two of the suspects escaped. The remain- 
ing two were brought next day before the magistrates, but 
nothing could be proved against them. They gave the names 
of Williams and White respectively, said they were American 
citizens, and claimed their discharge. The magistrate was 
about to sentence them, under the Vagrancy Act, to two or 



THE SCAFFOLD AND THE CELL. 375 

three days' imprisonment, when one of the detective force ap- 
plied for a week's remand, as he suspected the prisoners mio-ht 
have some connectionSvith Fenianism. The application was 
granted ; and ere nightfall it was known by the police that in 
"Williams" and "White" they held in their grasp Colonel 
Kelly, the Fenian leader, and Captain Deasy, his assistant. 

The arrests caused great commotion among the Fenian 
circles of Manchester and surrounding towns. Secret coun- 
cils were held, and, after much deliberation, the desperate 
resolve was taken to intercept the van conveying the prisoners 
from the court, to overpower the guard, and liberate the 
Fenian chiefs. On Wednesday, the 18th of September, the 
prisoners were again brought up, duly identified as Kelly and 
Deasy, and once more remanded. Before they had left the 
court, telegrams reached it from Dublin Castle and the Home 
Office, London, warning the Manchester authorities that a 
plot was on foot for the rescue of the prisoners. The warn- 
ing, if not derided, was doubted. The magistrates, however, 
knowing that these men had numerous adherents in Manches- 
ter, thought it might be wise to take some precautions. Kelly 
and Deasy were handcuffed and locked in separate compart- 
ments in the van ; and twelve policemen, instead of three, 
the usual guard, were ordered to accompany it. Five sat on 
the broad box-seat, two on the step behind, and four followed 
in a cab ; one, Sergeant Brett, sat within the van. The pris- 
oners in the vehicle besides the two Fenian leaders were three 
women and a boy aged twelve. At half past three the van 
drove off for the county jail at Salford, distant about two 
miles. Under the railway arch which spans Hyde Eoad at 
Bellevue a man darted into the middle of the road, raised a 
pistol, and shouted to the drivers to pull up. At the same 
moment a party of about thirty men, powerfully built, and 
armed with revolvers, sprang over the wall beside the road, 
surrounded the van, and seized the horses, one of which they 
shot. The police, being unarmed, made little resistance, and 
speedily took to flight. The rescuers produced hatchets, ham- 



376 NEW IRELAND. 

mers, and crow-bars, with which they sought to hew or burst 
open the van. It was slower work than they imagined, and 
soon the police returned accompanied by a considerable crowd. 
Some twenty of the rescuing party formed a ring around the 
van, and with pistols pointed kept back the policemen and the 
crowd, over whose head shots were fired from time to time, 
while the others continued their endeavors to force the van. 
They shouted to Brett, through a ventilator over the door, if 
he had the keys to give them up. He could not see what 
was taking place outside, but at the very first he divined the 
nature of the attack. With devoted fidelity and courage, he 
refused to surrender the keys. Anxious to obtain a glimpse 
of the assailing party, he stooped and looked out through the 
keyhole. The voice of some one in command outside almost at 
the same moment cried out, " Blow it open ; put your pistol 
to the keyhole and blow it open! " The muzzle of a revolver 
was put to the keyhole, and the trigger pulled. Brett in- 
side fell mortally wounded. The female prisoners, screaming 
loudly, cried, " He's killed ! " and lifted him up. Again a 
voice at the ventilator was heard demanding the keys, which 
one of the women took from Brett's pocket and handed out. 
Then "a, pale-faced young man" entered the van, unlocked 
the compartments in which Kelly and Deasy were secured, 
and brought them out. The rescued prisoners were hurried 
away across the fields by one or two attendants, the rescuers 
preventing pursuit. Not until their leaders were completely 
out of sight did they take thought of their own safety. Then 
they dispersed in all directions. They were pursued by the 
policemen and the crowd, which had now swelled consider- 
ably. Many of them were captured, and were severely 
beaten by their infuriate captors. One of them, recognized 
as the young man who had entered the van to liberate Kelly, 
and who was afterward identified as William Philip Allen, 
was knocked down by a blow of a brick, then kicked and 
stoned while he lay on the ground. Several of the prisoners 
when brought into town were streaming with blood, from 



THE SCAFFOLD AND THE CELL. 377 

violence done them in this way during or after capture. 
That evening Manchester was filled with consternation. The 
story of the rescue, with many exaggerations, spread like 
wildfire. The people thronged the streets, discussing the 
alarming topic. The police, inflamed with passion and 
wounded in pride, burst in strong bodies upon the Irish 
quarters of the town, making wholesale arrests in a spirit 
of fury. The anger and panic of Manchester spread next 
morning through all broad Britain. The national pride was 
wounded, the national safety invaded ; the national authority 
had been bearded, defied, and for the moment defeated, by a 
handful of rebel Irish in the very heart of an English city. 
A roar went up from all the land for swift, condign, and 
ample punishment. 

One cannot greatly wonder now at what then took place in 
England. Panic and passion reigned supreme. Eumors of 
new plots and attacks still more daring and dangerous filled 
every city. Garrisons were strengthened ; prison-guards were 
doubled ; special constables were sworn in. Manchester and 
the surrounding towns, well known to contain a large Irish 
population, were especially excited, and the Irish in those 
places had a hard time of it. In the midst of such a storm 
of anger, alarm, and passion, a Special Commission was issued 
for the trial of the Eescue prisoners. We in Ireland saw at 
once that this was doom for those men, innocent or guilty, 
— that a fair, calm, dispassionate trial at such a moment was 
out of the question. Heart-rending appeals reached us from 
the families of men absolutely innocent of any knowledge 
of the outrage, but who had been arrested by the police in 
the swoop on Irish homes which set in for days subsequently. 
Hope of justice there was little or none ; for in the prevail- 
ing temper of the English mind "blood for blood" was the 
cry on all hands. Many circumstances corroborated these 
fears. When the prisoners were brought before the magis- 
trates for committal, on the 25th of October, they were put 
to the bar in irons. Such a sight had not been seen in an 



378 NEW IRELAND. 

English court of justice for many a year. Mr. Jones, as an 
Englishman, and as counsel for the prisoners, indignantly 
protested against it. The bench decided that the handcuffs 
should be retained, and the audience burst into applause. 
Mr. Jones flung down his brief and quitted the court ; the 
junior counsel for the accused, however, remained. 

On Monday the 28th of October, William Philip Allen, 
Michael Larkin, Thomas Maguire, Michael O'Brien (alias 
Gould), and Edward Condon (alias Shore), were arraigned 
for the willful murder of Sergeant Brett. That the men who 
really belonged to that rescuing party were legally guilty of 
constructive murder, no matter which one of them fired the 
shot by which Brett fell, is plain and clear to any one ac- 
quainted with the simplest principles of law. But the moral 
guilt, heavy enough in any case, would be very different if, 
instead of mischance, cold-blooded design had led to Brett's 
murder. The Crown alleged that he was deliberately aimed 
at and shot through the open ventilator over the van door. 
The princi23al if not the only evidence supporting this theory 
was that of a disreputable female thief who was in the van 
on the way to her third term of imprisonment for robbery. 
The solemn assertion of men who were present is that Brett 
was shot by the bullet which entered through the keyhole, as 
he was turning away after glancing at the scene outside. The 
evidence on the trial, especially as to identification, was of 
a wild and reckless character, as the Government afterward 
discovered. The five men were nevertheless found guilty. 
They were arraigned and tried together on the one indict- 
ment, and were convicted on the one trial, in the one verdict, 
— a point upon which much subsequently turned. They 
were, all five, sentenced to be hanged on the 23d of Novem- 
ber. Before sentence they each addressed the court. In 
calmer mood Englishmen themselves would own the force of 
the protests they raised against what they called "the rotten 
evidence " and "the panic passion " of their trial. They all 
deplored earnestly the death of Brett. Some of them vehe- 



THE SCAFFOLD A2S T D TIIE CELL. 379 

mently denied that they were even present at the affray. 
"No man in this court," said Allen, " regrets the death of 
Sergeant Brett more than I do, and I positively say, in the 
presence of the Almighty and ever-living God, that I am 
innocent, — ay, as innocent as any man in this court. I don't 
say this for the sake of mercy : I want no mercy ; I'll have 
no mercy. I'll die, as many thousands have died, for the 
sake of their beloved land, and in defense of it." Maguire 
denounced the reckless swearing of the witnesses ; said he 
had served the Queen faithfully as a marine, was loyal to her 
still, and bore a high character from his commanding officer. 
Condon was the last to speak. He solemnly asseverated, as 
a dying man, that he was not even present at the rescue. "I 
do not accuse the jury," he said, " but I believe they were 
prejudiced. I don't accuse them of willfully wishing to con- 
vict, but prejudice has induced them to convict when they 
otherwise would not have done. We have been found guilty, 
and, as a matter of course, we accept our death. We are not 
afraid to die: at least I am not." "Nor I," "Nor I," 
broke from the others all. He went on, — 

" I only trust that those who are to be tried after us will have a fair 
trial, and that our blood will satisfy the craving which I understand 
exists. You will soon send us before God, and I am perfectly prepared 
to go. I have nothing to regret, or to retract, or take back. I can 
only say, ' God save Ireland.' " 

As he spoke these words, his companions, with one step, 
simultaneously advanced to the front of the dock, and, lift- 
ing their faces and extending their hands upward, cried out 
earnestly, " God save Ireland !" That exclamation has since 
been made a national watchword in Ireland. 

Before many days had folloAved the trial, a feeling began 
to be entertained in England that it was of dubious char- 
acter, and that the correctness of the verdict was open to 
grave question. The newspaper reporters who had attended 
on behalf of the London and provincial press felt this so 



380 NEW IRELAND. 

strongly as to Maguire that they adopted the unusual course 
of sending to the Home Office a document declaring their 
deep conviction that the evidence and verdict were utterly 
wrong as regards him. After some days spent in inquiry, 
the Government admitted the truth of this startling im- 
peachment, and pardoned Maguire. Friends of humanity 
and justice among the English people now took courage and 
spoke out. They said that on evidence and a verdict thus 
confessed to be tainted and untenable it would be monstrous 
to take human life. Let the prisoners, they said, be pun- 
ished as heavily as may be, short of taking life, impossible 
to be restored if hereafter error be discovered. Soon news 
was published that Condon was reprieved pending further 
consideration. The general conviction now spread that a 
like announcement was at hand as to the others, — a result 
attributed to the exertions of courageous and philanthropic 
Englishmen in Manchester and London. In Ireland, where 
the whole proceedings were followed with absorbing interest, 
a like conclusion was very widely entertained. Still, it was 
evident that a powerful section of English public opinion 
demanded a sacrifice. The pardon of Maguire, the reprieve 
of Condon, were called lamentable exhibitions of weakness 
and vacillation. If disaffection and assassination were not 
to have a triumph, if life and property were to be protected, 
law and order asserted and avenged, these men must hang 
upon the gallows-tree. 

These views prevailed. 

In anticipation of the event at hand, the Government or- 
dered large bodies of troops to the cities and towns through- 
out England where a dangerous Irish element was supposed 
to exist. Manchester, as was observed at the time, resembled 
a place besieged. Special constables were enrolled in large 
numbers, and military occupied all the positions deemed 
strategically important in and around the jail. Early on the 
evening of the 22d, a crowd commenced to assemble outside 
the prison-wall. Their conduct throughout the night was 



TEE SCAFFOLD AND THE CELL. 381 

very bad ; several times the jail authorities caused them to 
be removed, as their shouts, yells, and songs of triumph 
disturbed the doomed men inside preparing for eternity. 
" Breakdown dances " were performed, and comic songs were 
varied with verses of "God Save the Queen" or "Rule 
Britannia," for the "Fenian Murderers" inside to hear. 
The last evening of their lives happily was solaced by the re- 
ceipt of a letter, couched in kindly and touching words, 
and inclosing one hundred pounds " for the families they 
would leave behind," from the Dowager Marchioness of 
Queensberry. "From the first," says a published account, 
"the prisoners exhibited a deep, fervid, religious spirit 
which could scarcely have been surpassed." 

In the cold gray morning of the 23d of November, 18G7, 
Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien were led out to die. Such a 
concourse had never before attended a Manchester execution 
as thronged around the jail. Long files of bayonets reached 
on all sides. A temporary platform ran some length at each 
end of the scaffold, but inside the prison-wall, and was occu- 
pied by detachments of the 72d Highlanders, who stooped 
behind the masonry, with the muzzles of the loaded rifles 
resting on the top. Even the savage crowd hushed for a mo- 
ment at the death-bell's toll, and soon the condemned ap- 
peared. Allen came first. He was deadly pale, but walked 
with firm and steady tread. Next came Larkin, greatly 
overcome, and trembling with emotion. Last stepped forth 
O'Brien, whose firm and dignified bearing was the admira- 
tion of all who beheld him. Before he was placed upon the 
trap he moved to where his two comrades stood capped and 
pinioned, with fatal cord around each neck, and kissed them 
lovingly. They were greatly affected, and all three em- 
braced one another tenderly. The bolt was drawn ; the 
three bodies fell, struggled convulsively for a few minutes, 
and all was over. 

When on that Saturday morning the news was flashed to 
Ireland, " Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien were hanged at eight 



382 NEW IRELAND. 

o'clock in front of Salford jail," surprise, dismay, grief, and 
rage filled every breast. Men gasped, astounded, and asked 
could this dreadful tale be true. Others, more violently 
moved, went about with flushed cheek and darkened brow, 
clenching their teeth in silent passion. Men who even up to 
this period had been more or less in conflict with Fenianism 
were overpowered by this blow. For what, they asked, was 
this deed in Manchester but an act of political vengeance, 
another cruel tragedy in the long struggle between Irish re- 
volt and English power ? In the afternoon came fuller ac- 
counts of the execution, containing one sentence which stung 
the Irish people most keenly : " The bodies of the three mur- 
derers were buried in quicklime in unconsecrated ground 
within the jail,'" Murderers, indeed ! Buried in quicklime ! * 
Here was a stroke which went home, — a barbed and poisoned 
arrow that pierced the heart of Ireland. This branding of 
their inanimate bodies with infamy, this denial of Christian 
burial in consecrated earth, wounded the most sensitive feel- 
ings of Irishmen. Next day, Sunday, the news reached the 
provinces, and in hundreds of churches, at the morning mass, 
the priest, his voice broken with emotion, asked the congre- 
gation to pray God's mercy on the souls of the three victims. 
The answer was a wail of grief, and many wept outright 
when the story of their execution was told. I never knew 
Ireland to be more deeply moved by mingled feelings of grief 
and anger. It was not the death of the prisoners ; although 
from what has been stated their execution was an utter sur- 
prise, and deemed a frightful severity. When men, arms in 
hand, attempt such a deed as Kelly's rescue, they must be 
prepared and content to abide the penalty, though it be death 
itself. It was the conviction that these men, innocent or 
guilty, had not had a fair trial, that the cause of Irish nation- 

* Of course if the rescue was not a political incident, and if these 
men were mere^robbers and murderers, this was the ordinary course. 
But to deny the exclusively political character of the crime were 
absurd. 



THE SCAFFOLD AND THE CELL. 383 

ality was meant to be struck at and humiliated in their per- 
sons, and, above all, the attempt to class them as vulgar mur- 
derers, not political culprits, and to offer indignity to their 
remains, that led to the wondrous upheaval of Irish feeling 
which now startled the empire. 

All over Ireland announcements appeared that funeral 
processions commemorative of the "Manchester Martyrs" 
would be held. The selection of funeral displays rather 
than public meetings marked exactly the peculiar feature of 
the Manchester proceedings which it was intended to resent. 
Cork led the way by announcing a monster demonstration 
for the 1st of December ; and on that day most of the cities 
and towns in the South of Ireland witnessed the singular 
spectacle of "funerals" — hearses, mourners, craped banners, 
and muffled drums — where there were no dead. The 8th of 
December was fixed for the metropolitan display, as well as 
for some twenty or thirty others throughout the island. John 
Martin hurried up to Dublin to lead the procession there. 
The O'Donoghue was announced to head the demonstration 
in Killarney. For the first time during years the distinction 
between Fenian and non-Fenian Nationalists seemed to dis- 
appear, and the national or popular element came unitedly 
and in full force to the front. The Dublin procession was a 
marvelous display. The day was cold, wet, and gloomy ; 
yet it was computed that a hundred and fifty thousand per- 
sons participated in the demonstration, sixty thousand of 
them marching in line over a route some three or four miles 
in length. As the three hearses, bearing the names of the 
executed men, passed through the streets, the multitudes that 
lined the way fell on their knees, every head was bared, and 
not a sound was heard save the solemn notes of the "Dead- 
March in Saul " from the bands, or the sobs that burst occa- 
sionally from the crowd. At the cemetery-gate the proces- 
sionists formed into a vast assemblage, which was addressed 
by Mr. Martin, in feeling and forcible language, expressive of 
the national sentiment on the Manchester execution. At the 



384 NEW IRELAND. 

close, once more all heads were bared, a prayer was offered, 
and the mourning thousands peacefully sought their homes. 

The section of the press that had goaded the Government 
to extremities at Manchester, by demands for what they 
designated a policy of "vigor," now called loudly for the 
suppression of these funerals as "seditious demonstrations," 
nay, "rampant exhibitions of sympathy with murder." On 
the 12th of December, four days after the Dublin procession,- 
a viceregal proclamation was issued declaring the funerals to 
be illegal, and calling on all magistrates and peace officers to 
suppress the same. Within two days summonses were issued 
against Mr. John Martin and other members of the Dublin 
funeral committee. The accused were committed for trial at 
the Commission to open on the 10th of February, 1868, bail 
being taken for their appearance. Twelve days subsequently 
a second stroke was dealt at the leaders of the demonstration ; 
and I, having marched at its head, arm-in-arm with Mr. 
Martin, found myself now called upon to take my place by 
his side in the dock. 

The Manchester scene called forth the stormiest passion 
and fiercest invective in the Irish national press. The exe- 
cution was denounced as "judicial murder." "The jailer 
and the hangman " were declared to be " now the twin guard- 
ians of British rule in Ireland." My own journals were 
among the most violent in expression of the prevalent emo- 
tion. In poem, prose, and picture we held up the tragic 
deed as a crime, and called upon the Irish people to encoun- 
ter the attempt to brand the victims as "murderers" with 
demonstrations of sorrow for their fate and admh-ation for 
their heroism. Toward the close of December rumors went 
round that the work of the approaching Commission was to 
be swelled, not alone by State trials for seditious funeral pro- 
cessions, but by press prosecutions also. In the interval 
between my commitment and the opening of the Commission 
business called me to Paris. One night while there I was 
roused out of bed by a telegram from Dublin, calling on me 



THE SCAFFOLD AND THE CELL. 385 

to start for home instantly, or a warrant would be issued for 
my arrest, on a prosecution against the Weekly News. Of 
this journal I was the proprietor, but not the editor. Strange 
to say, up to that moment I had not read what had been 
written in it on the subject of the executions, so engrossed 
was I, in the midst of the prevailing excitement, with the 
conduct of the Nation, the direction of which journal lay in 
my own hands. I hastened home, and arrived barely in time 
to present myself in court. I heard the articles read against 
me ; owned in my heart that they were "pretty strong ; " 
but so deeply did I feel upon that sad business that I would 
have gone to the scaffold itself, if need were, rather than 
flinch as the issue was now raised. Once again I was com- 
mitted for trial ; and on the 15th of February, surrendering 
to my bail, I stood at the bar in Green Street to answer to the 
Queen for my conduct as a journalist. The best exertions 
of the able and gifted gentlemen who acted as my counsel 
were of no avail. After a protracted trial, I was found guilty, 
sentence being deferred pending the result of the second 
prosecution. 

On Thursday morning, the 20th of February, 1868, "John 
Martin, Alexander M. Sullivan, James J. Lalor, and Thomas 
Bracken" stood at the bar arraigned for that they, "being 
malicious, seditious, and ill-disposed persons, and intending 
to disturb the peace and tranquility of the realm," and so 
forth, did assemble seditiously. We joined in our challenges 
and took trial together. Mr. Lalor and Mr. Bracken were 
defended by counsel ; the speech of Mr. Michael Crean for 
the former being an exceedingly able and conclusive argu- 
ment against an attempt in one of the counts of the indict- 
ment to constitute the national emblem and color of Ireland 
a " party " badge, and make the wearing of the green a crime. 
Mr. Martin and I, dispensing, on many grounds, with pro- 
fessional advocacy, had decided to speak for ourselves, and 
it was privately arranged between us that he should take 
precedence. When, however, the evidence had closed, and 
17 



386 NEW IRELAND. 

the moment came for him to rise, his strength seemed to fail 
him ; he entreated me to take his place, and to give him until 
morning for rest and preparation. Of course I obeyed. His 
simplest wish was law to me. For years we had worked side 
by side in public life ; side by side in peril are now. With 
heavy heart I reflected that his feeble frame would never 
stand a second term of prison punishment. Yes, I would 
speak, and on that instant ! To save his life mayhap, the 
precious life of the friend I loved, to defend my own char- 
acter and vindicate my principles, I would fling all my soul 
into one supreme effort to move that jury with the justice of 
our cause. I rose, and for a moment or two stood silent, 
scarcely able to find utterance. 1 could not only feel but 
hear the throbbing of my heart. I painfully realized all 
the danger and responsibility of my position. The court was 
densely crowded. In the gallery beyond sat my wife, my 
father, my brothers, and devoted friends, not a few who 
would gladly have taken my place to set me free. The 
judges, Mr. Justice Fitzgerald and Mr. Baron Deasy, who 
had conducted my previous trial and this one with singular 
impartiality and judicial dignity, seemed to feel for my em- 
barrassment, and extended to me all indulgence and consider- 
ation. At length I was well under way ; and once fairly 
started I was perfectly at ease. After a while, inspired rather 
than deterred by the circumstances surrounding me, I struck 
boldly into an argument upon the whole ground covered by 
the issues raised in the prosecution. As I went on, night 
fell ; the lamps were lighted. Outside the building a crowd, 
unable to obtain admittance, filled the street. Despite the 
efforts of the police, — neither angry nor severe, poor fellows, 
to tell the truth, — the throng inside frequently burst into 
cheers, which the people outside repeated, knowing only that 
it was one of the traversers who was being applauded. I spoke 
without notes or assistance of any kind, my mind being full 
of the case. As I concluded, feeling very much like a man 
" shooting Niagara," I became aware that a great roar of 



TEE SCAFFOLD AND TEE CELL. 387 

cheering had broken forth, that scores of hands were grasping 
at and clutching me, and that John Martin had his arms 
around me. I was borne outside, to receive a thousand felici- 
tations, and to hear from many a voice the prophecy, "No 
verdict. " 

A true prophecy it proved to be. Next evening the trial 
closed. The jury were charged, and retired. An hour 
went by, and another. Still they came not. At length 
they return to ask a question, the tenor of which is adverse 
to the Crown. The crowd wait till they retire, then break 
into cheers. By and by the jury are sent for. They "can- 
not agree," and are discharged. "Victory ! " cry the enthu- 
siastic multitude in the streets, and the news is telegraphed 
all over Ireland. Yes, it was victory ; but not rescue for 
me. Next morning I came to the bar to hear my sentence 
under the conviction for the press offense. Mr. Justice 
Fitzgerald spoke it in words as full of considerate kindliness 
as on such an occasion well could be. At the close of a 
brief address, he said, — 

" I assure you that it is with great, with deep regret that it becomes 
my duty to announce to you the sentence of the law. My learned col- 
league and myself have considered this case most anxiously. We have 
considered it with a view that if we erred at all it should be on the 
side of leniency ; but, notwithstanding, the sentence must be such as 
will for a considerable time withdraw you from public life. I regret 
this the more when I recollect that you have proved yourself in this 
court a man possessed of eminent ability, — an ability that I would 
much wish was exerted in the same way in another cause ; and not 
only that, but I am aware from the public prints that you have de- 
voted your time, or at least a considerable portion of it, and the talents 
with which you are gifted, to the public service, to advance the cause 
of education and promote the claims of charity. But, notwithstand- 
ing, we have a duty to perform to the public for the repression of 
similar offenses. It is not my wish or desire to prolong this scene, 
which to me is extremely painful, nor to say one word that would give 
unnecessary offense ; but in the simplest language to announce to you 
the sentence of the law. That sentence is that you be imprisoned 
for a period of six calendar months from the present time ; and further 



388 NEW IRELAND. 

that you at the end of that time give security, yourself in five hun- 
dred pounds and two sureties in two hundred and fifty pounds each, 
to be of good behavior for a period of two years ; and in default of 
such security being given, that you be further imprisoned for a second 
period of six calendar months." 

I was borne to the cell beneath the court, where I bade 
adieu to my family ; and a few hours subsequently I entered 
the portals of Richmond as a prisoner. ' 

As a prisoner ! The judge, when sentencing me, had 
alluded in kindly spirit to some labors of mine in "the pub- 
lic service, " as he expressed it. I had for some years taken 
an active interest and somewhat of a prominent part in civic 
affairs ; and any position of honor or trust which my fellow- 
citizens could well confer upon me they had not hesitated 
to bestow. Among the rest, I had been for some time past 
elected from year to year on the Board of Superintend- 
ence of the City Prisons : so that I found myself about to 
fill a cell in a jail over which I had for some years been a 
ruling authority.* Not even while I was being weighed and 
measured, and having the color of my eyes and hair duly 
entered in the register, did I greatly feel the difference be- 
tween this and one of my ordinary visits to the place. It 
was only when, later on, a moment came, which the gover- 
nor with great delicacy put off as long as possible, — when, 
after "sauntering," as it were, to a cell up-stairs, and hav- 
ing talked with me a good deal about prison-affairs, as of 
old, he at last said, "Well, I must now say good-by," and 
turned into the corridor, leaving me behind, — when I heard 
the bang of the heavy iron door that shut me in, and list- 
ened to the bolt of the lock shot through, — the reality of 
the situation seemed suddenly to burst upon me ! I gave 
one glance around the narrow space, with its floor of stone, 

* On the eve of the election for 1868, as my trials were pending, I 
considered it proper to decline office for that year ; but when the 
period of my imprisonment was over I was elected to my former place, 
as before. 



THE SCAFFOLD AND TEE CELL. 389 

and window heavily barred. What ! Was this only a dream, 
— a scene in an acted play, — or could it be, oh, heaven ! that 
to-night at Belfield Park my little child would call for me 
in vain ? My wife ! my parents ! I sank upon the rude 
prison-pallet and felt for an instant as if my heart would 
break. Suddenly I sprang to my feet. "Hold!" I ex- 
claimed, almost aloud : "is this my fortitude ? How light 
is my lot, how trivial must my sufferings, mental or physi- 
cal, be, compared with those borne by better men, whenever 
or wherever, in any age or clime, a struggle for national 
liberty is pressed ! " I felt almost ashamed of my momen- 
tary weakness, and resolved to accept with composure the 
penalty I had incurred. After all, as I avowed in my speech 
on the trial,* the man who enters into conflict with the civil 
power is bound to weigh the consequences. At that moment 
Mr. William Johnson of Ballykilbeg (now member of Par- 
liament for Belfast), the intrepid leader of Ulster Orange- 
ism, was being carried to the county jail of Down to un- 
dergo a like punishment for defying an act of Parliament 
which he believed to be an infringement of constitutional 
liberty. Why should I complain ? He who strikes must 
not wail if he is struck in the combat. 

A recently-passed act of Parliament had abolished all dis- 
tinction between misdemeanant prisoners ; so that a public 
journalist convicted for political writings was classified for 
treatment with the vulgar herd of crime. This was a great 
outrage. In my case, however, everything short of violent 
illegality was done by the public authorities to mitigate such 
a cruel state of things. Every officer in the prison, from 
Captain Boyd, the governor, down to the youngest warder, 
strove by demonstrations of respect and kindliness to rob my 

* " It is the first and most original condition of society, that a man 
shall subordinate his public acts to the welfare of the community, 
or at least acknowledge the right of those among whom his lot is 
cast to judge him on such an issue as this. Freely I acknowledge that 
right." 



390 NEW IRELAND. 

imprisonment of all humiliation. I became aware that Lord 
Mayo, the Irish Secretary, evinced the liveliest personal in- 
terest in the efforts to avert from me the indignities and 
severities to which the classification otherwise would have 
subjected me. Nevertheless, it was a weary time, a pro- 
longed suffering. Cellular imprisonment, especially under 
"the solitary system," as in my case, is a torture to men of 
active habits and nervous temperament. For such men the 
cell of the "silent system" is the antechamber of the lunatic 
ward. * 

On the morning of Sunday, the 30th of May, 1868, Cap- 
tain Boyd entered the day-room : he held an open letter in 
his hand. 

" 'How beautiful are the feet of them that bring glad 
tidings of good things ! ' " he exclaimed, his face radiant 
with pleasure. 

" What is it, captain ? " 

" The order for your release," he replied. 

* The rules forbade prisoners to " whistle or sing." Music was one 
of the great charms of home for me, and I longed to hear some. I 
induced a friend to smuggle in for me a little " musical box ; " at least 
I begged it might be so small as not to be overheard outside my cell. 
Unfortunately, meaning to be very kind, he brought me a rather large 
one, and with a novel mode of stop. I set it to play. Horror of hor- 
rors ! It seemed as loud as Dan Godfrey's band ! I tried to stop it. 
In vain. In a few minutes I heard the warder approaching. What 
was to be done ? I seized the mischievous thing, and thought to break 
it up. I rushed to my camp-bed, and rolled the instrument in the 
bedclothes, as it went banging away at the "Overture to William 
Tell." The warder stopped outside my cell door. 

" Do you hear some music, sir ? " 

" Ahem ! yes— that is, something like music." 

" It seems just outside the walls, sir. What on earth can it be ?" 

" Oh, some confounded Italian organ-grinder is always in the neigh- 
borhood." 

" Bedad, sir, I think may-be it's one of the city bands marching out 
to serenade you ! " 

I never tried that musical box again. i 



TEE SCAFFOLD AND TEE CELL. 391 

Oh, blessed liberty ! Oh, luxury ineffable of walking 
freely through green fields and listening to the song of 
birds ! 

Next day I re-entered the world. In those few months 
great changes had taken place. The "troubled rest and 
ceaseless fear" of the Fenian fever were all over. Great 
events had come upon the scene. A night of anguish and 
suffering was ended for Ireland. Daylight gleamed in the 
eastern skies. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

" DELENDA EST CAKTHAGO ! " 

Ovek the disestablishment of the Irish Protestant Church 
was fought the last great battle between the " Liberal " and 
" Conservative " parties in Ireland, — their last, as the two 
combatants who alone had hitherto contended for or divided 
between them the Irish parliamentary representation. 

Soon afterward, as we shall see, a new issue was to be 
raised ; a new party nomenclature was to appear ; a new 
classification to be adopted. But down to this period, with 
exceptions that scarcely qualify the statement, Irish members 
of Parliament were either Liberals or Conservatives, and a 
general election in Ireland was a stand-up fight between "the 
Reform " and " the Carlton." The great struggle of 1868, 
however, was destined to be the last of its class. 

Although in the abstract entitled to be ranked among 
questions of the first magnitude, the Church grievance, as it 
existed in 1865, had called forth comparatively little thought 
or attention from the Irish people. The subject would have 
been placed third or fourth on any list of parliamentary re- 
forms demanded by the popular voice, — the Land invariably 
being first. "When in 1838 the direct payment of tithe from 
the Catholic farmer to the Protestant rector was changed 
into an indirect payment through or in the landlord's rent, 
the grievance was adroitly put out of sight. By a reform 
which maybe called a clever piece of legislative legerdemain, 
Catholic Paddy was supposed to be relieved because, in place 
of paying ten pounds of rent to the landlord and one pound 
of tithe to the rector, he had to pay eleven pounds as rent to 

392 



" DELENDA EST CARTHAGO ! " 393 

the landlord, the latter handing oyer to his reverence the 
tithe portion, minus the modest deduction of twenty-five per 
cent, for collection. Henceforth a farmer objecting to pay 
this part of his "rent" would he held up to the public 
simply as a defaulting tenant. And soon the tenants came 
to see that any abolition or remission of the "tithe-rent- 
charge " henceforth would mean no relief whatever to them. 
The landlord would demand as much as ever for the land, 
would keep the rent at what it had been inclusive of the 
tithe ; and it was a mere question whether so much went 
directly into the pocket of the landlord or indirectly into 
that of the rector. 

"Disendowing" the Church, therefore, did not relieve the 
Catholic millions of Ireland of one penny paid in this way ; 
and I should be perplexed to say whether in my opinion the 
tenant farmers of Ireland would, on the whole, have pre- 
ferred, as to this fiscal aspect of the question, that disendow- 
ment had been carried or not. As it is, the change matters 
little to them or to the Church : they pay as much as ever, 
and the Church comes financially out of the ordeal not a 
pemiy the worse. 

Disestablishment, however, was quite another matter. 
Even the humblest peasant felt the Church establishment to 
be a standing badge of conquest. It was not that the Irish 
Catholics, like the English Nonconformists, believed a State 
Church to be abstractly, or under every conceivable state of 
circumstances, wrong in itself.* It was because they saw 

* Nonconformist speakers and writers, unaware of or losing sight of 
this fact, fall into frequent error and misconception when they find 
Irish Catholics refusing to join or help in disendowing and disestablish- 
ing the Church in England. There are very many Irishmen no doubt 
who are opposed to State-churchism everywhere and anyirhcre, as a 
matter of policy or wisdom ; but it was not on the abstract ground of 
anti-State-churchism that the Irish Catholics as a body complained 
against and assailed the Protestant State Church in Ireland. The real 
grounds will be found stated in the text. 
2* 



394 NEW IRELAND. 

that not alone the property of their Church, bestowed by 
their Catholic forefathers explicitly for Catholic purposes, 
had been taken totally from them and handed over to a 
minority of about one-tenth of the whole population, but 
that this minority were furthermore constituted a dominant 
or ruling caste to assail and humiliate them. One may specu- 
late whether the Irish Catholics would have greatly con- 
cerned themselves about their disestablishment or disendow- 
ment had the Establishment been less aggressive. I am 
personally aware that in parishes where the Protestant rector 
had a bona-fide congregation of his own, and confined his 
ministrations to them, — that is to say, where he neither car- 
ried on nor encouraged proselytizing raids on the other com- 
munion, — he was frequently popular in the most cordial 
sense, and never in such a case awakened a feeling of jealousy, 
dislike, or unfriendliness in the breasts of the Catholic 
masses around him. To these he was, at all events, a local 
gentleman who spent money in the parish. His family were 
amiable and kindly to all, and "good to the poor," without 
invidious object in their charity. He attended zealously, as 
he had a right to do, to his own co-religionists ; but he re- 
spected the conscientious convictions of others. I could 
name several Protestant clergymen of this description, whose 
place in the respect and confidence, I might say affections, 
of the Catholic parishioners was as high very nearly as in 
the esteem and reverence of their own congregations.* Had 
the type been more prevalent, the Established Church, 
though wrong as ever otherwise, might have evoked very 
little hostility from the Irish people. But it was quite a 
different thing to see clergy of the Establishment crowding 
into associations and societies founded for the purpose of 

* At the present moment I would invite any one who may be inclined 
to doubt this statement to test the feelings of the Catholics of Kenmare 
as to the Rev. Mr. McCutcheon, or of the Catholics of Bantry as to the 
Rev. Mr. Faulkiner, rectors respectively of those two parishes in my 
native district. 



"DELENDA EST CARTHAGO!" 395 

proselytizing Catholic adults or children, and constituting 
themselves individual agents of such organizations in their 
several localities. In brief, had the endowed and established 
minority not pursued a course of provocative warfare against 
the Church of the millions, and turned against these millions 
the funds which, as they sullenly reflected, once had been 
theirs, the Irish Establishment might have gone on far into 
the future without molestation or change as far as they were 
concerned. 

Even in the estimation of the Catholic bishops this Church 
question did not, previous to 1865, occupy as important a 
place, was certainly not deemed as exigent by them, as the 
Education question. On this latter subject, from 1859 to 
1864 they had organized a series of important diocesan meet- 
ings ; throughout the same period they had raised the issue 
at every election, and publicly pledged themselves to concen- 
trate all their energies on school and university reform, as 
the first and most pressing want of the time. Yet when, on 
the 30th of December, 1864, "the National Association of 
Ireland " was founded, under the auspices of his Eminence 
Cardinal Cullen and other leading prelates, the Education 
question, to the general surprise, was pushed to the rear, and 
Disestablishment placed in the forefront of the new agitation. 

What did this mean ? 

For some time previously private negotiations, or " inter- 
change of views," had been going on between leading mem- 
bers of the Liberation Society and certain prominent English 
Liberals on the one hand, and some Irish ecclesiastical and 
lay politicians on the other, with a view to restoring cordial 
relations, or effecting a new alliance, between Irish and Eng- 
lish Liberalism. In Ireland the disruption of 1852 had never 
been healed. The " Brass Band" of Keogh and Sadleir had 
made the name of Whig-Liberal odious in popular estima- 
tion ; though most of the bishops long clung to the old ways, 
and seemed to think " Catholic appointments " the be-all and 
end-all of Irish policy. But by 1864 even the bishops had 



396 NEW IRELAND. 

broken with the Liberal ministry. The strongly anti-Papal 
policy of Lord Palmerston had greatly incensed Irish Catho- 
lics ; and the bitter resistance offered by his administration 
to the agitation for denominational education which sprang 
up in 1860 completed the estrangement between the Liberal 
party and the Irish prelates. What with this antagonism 
and its paralyzing results, and what with the ominous dis- 
appearance of all hope or faith or interest in constitutional 
agitation on the part of the Irish masses, a state of deadlock 
prevailed in Irish politics. In the autumn of 1864, however, 
an endeavor was made to bring about a rapprochement be- 
tween the bishops and that section of the English Liberals of 
whom Mr. Bright was the representative and leader. To 
what end, it was asked, should a waste of energy be contin- 
ued ? Why strive at cross-purposes over denominational 
education, on which English Liberals and Irish Catholics 
could not agree ? Why not postpone such an issue until 
questions upon which admittedly they could pull together 
had first been disposed of ? From various quarters, Irish 
and English, the bishops were urged to establish a great 
popular organization for effecting such reforms as the allied 
forces of English and Irish Liberalism might combine to win. 
Vainly would these appeals have reached the Irish shore 
— vainly as to any effect on the popular mind — had it not 
been for an agency of conciliation which had at this time made 
itself felt by most thoughtful Irishmen. In the press of 
England the Irish people had long been accustomed to en- 
counter an unforgiving foe. With much surprise they saw 
a new daily journal started in the imperial metropolis, a lead- 
ing feature in which seemed to be a fair, a just, a kindly and 
sympathetic treatment of Ireland and the Irish people. Even 
where it dissented from Irish projects or censured Irish faults, 
it did so in a spirit of honest friendliness that went home to 
every impartial mind. This was to us almost incompre- 
hensible. The thing was so new, so unlike all we had been 
accustomed to, that we could hardly realize it. For the first 



"DELEND A EST CARTHAGO!" 397 

time in my life I begau to adequately estimate how long 
a way a little genuine and honest sympathy goes with the 
Irish people. One newspaper — the Morning Star — had in a 
few years created an impression which I once would have 
deemed impossible to be effected. That newspaper is gone ; 
but this I can affirm, that the men who labored in its pages 
accomplished a service the magnitude of which was fully 
known only to those who were behind the scenes in Irish 
politics. They did not indeed wholly bridge over the chasm 
of hatred which gaped dark and wide between Ireland and 
England ; but they laid the foundations for a work which hap- 
pier times may perhaps see honorably completed. From the 
period of their efforts may be dated the beginning of those 
friendly relations between the Irish and English working- 
classes in some of the cities and towns of Great Britain 
which is noticeable in these later days, and which is so 
marked in contrast to the hostility of previous times. Facts 
within my own knowledge and experience justify me in class- 
ing the influence of that short-lived English newspaper as 
one of the foremost agencies in a notable change of Irish 
feeling and opinion. 

There seemed many reasons why the Irish bishops and clergy 
should make some such movement as that to which they were 
urged. By this time even those among them who were most 
responsible for the destruction of the tenant-right organiza- 
tion in 1852 had come to mourn that achievement as a 
lamentable and most disastrous error. Gladly would they 
now restore what they had then pulled down. But where 
now were they to find a man whom they could trust, and 
whom the people would follow, as a national leader ? Gavan 
Duffy was in exile, and George Henry Moore, refusing every 
compromise, had quitted politics for the time, angered, imbit- 
tered, and implacable. One man of equal repute with these, 
though wanting their experience of parliamentary politics, 
there still remained : Mr. John B. Dillon. In the move- 
ments of 1843 and 1848, as mentioned in a previous chapter, 



398 NEW IRELAND. 

Mr. Dillon had played a conspicuous part.* By friend and 
foe he was esteemed for his many noble qualities. In 1856, 
with the tacit assent of the Government, he returned from 
exile, and, utterly eschewing politics, resumed his profes- 
sional avocations. It was only in 1863 he was induced by 
considerable persuasion to re-enter public life, so far as to 
allow himself to be elected to the Dublin Municipal Council. 
In the autumn of 1864 he was strongly pressed, and he 
eventually consented, to accept the leadership of such an 
Irish movement as has been above referred to, — one which 
would enjoy the patronage of the Catholic bishops and re- 
ceive the co-operation of the English Kadicals. 

The two Irishmen, however, who most largely contributed 
to the great purpose of Disestablishment were Mr. W. J. 
O'Neill Daunt of Kilcascan Castle, county Cork, and Sir 
John Gray, M.P., editor and proprietor of the Freeman's 
Journal, the leading daily organ of popular opinion in Ire- 
land. Mr. Daunt indeed might be called the father of the 
movement in Ireland. For nearly half a century he had 
been associated in the great political efforts of the time, and 
was one of the most widely esteemed and respected of Irish 
popular leaders. At an early age he entered Irish politics, 
and while yet a young man became quite a prominent figure 
in the Eepeal Association. He devoted himself to literature, 
and was the author of several novels, chiefly illustrative of 
Irish social and political life. From 1845 to 1860 he took 

* In July, 1848, at one of the secret councils of the Young Ireland 
chiefs, — almost the last they held before the ill-fated " rising," — Dillon, 
grave, dignified, and thoughtful as usual, listened calmly to the debate. 
When it came to his turn to speak he most strongly opposed a resort to 
arms under the circumstances of the time. At this a feather-headed 
enthusiast of the party flared up wildly, and spoke of Dillon's sober 
warning as " timorous shrinking." He was answered only by a sor- 
rowful smile from the brave man who a week after was on the hill- 
side at Killenaule sword in hand (and for eight years subsequently was 
an exile), while the braggart subsided at the first whisper of danger 
and lay still till the storm blew over. 



"DELENDA EST CARTHAGO!" 399 

little or no part in political affairs ; but in 1861 he com- 
menced, almost single-handed, to arouse public opinion 
against the Irish State Church. He became an active cor- 
respondent of Mr. Carvell Williams, Secretary of the Liber- 
ation Society, and in conjunction with that gentleman, in a 
large degree, directed the course of the agitation from the 
beginning to the close. 

Sir John Gray, M.P., whose "Irish Church Commis- 
sion " * may be said to have rendered Disestablishment inev- 
itable, had filled a leading position and played an active part 
in Irish politics for more than thirty years previously. He 
was a Protestant in religion, a Kepealer and Liberal in poli- 
tics. He was one of the State prisoners (along with O'Con- 
nell) in 1844, and fought in the forefront of the Tenant 
League campaign from 1850 to 1856. To the Irish metrop- 
olis, over the civic affairs of which he virtually ruled for 
twenty years, he was a public benefactor. When he es- 
poused a cause, he served it with all his heart. Immediately 
on his election for Kilkenny city in 1865 he flung himself 
into the agitation for Disestablishment ; and assuredly never 
did public man devote himself with more indefatigable 
energy to a public question than he did at this important 
crisis to the cause of religious equality, f 

It was a hazardous experiment to attempt the renewal of 
parliamentary agitation in Ireland at the time. The Fenian 
leaders had, as we have seen, proclaimed it a cardinal point 
of doctrine and practice that legal or constitutional efforts 
were "demoralizing" and must not be allowed. They had 
stormed platforms and dispersed meetings in assertion of 
this view. The Orangemen, too, had to be taken into ac- 

* An exhaustive and exceedingly able series of reports on the his- 
tory, position, revenues, organization, and congregational strength of 
the Established Church in Ireland, which he issued from time to time 
in the Freeman's Journal. 

f Sir John Gray died in 1876. His loss was heartily regretted by 
men of every class and party in Irish public life. 



400 NEW IRELAND. 

count on this occasion. When it was announced that the 1 
new association was to be inaugurated at a public meeting 
convened by the Lord Mayor, threats came from the oppo- 
site poles of political passion ; and it seemed quite uncertain 
whether a Fenian riot, or an Orange riot, or an Orange- 
Fenian riot, was to break up the demonstration. On the 
28th of December the Grand Orange Lodge of Ireland held 
a special sitting to express their condemnation of the pro- 
posed meeting, and to denounce the conduct of the Lord 
Mayor in convening it. They flung in his face his oath of 
office as a Catholic, in which the following passage occurred : 

" I do hereby disclaim, disavow, and solemnly abjure any intention 
to subvert the present Church Establishment as settled by law within 
this realm •, and I do solemnly swear that I never will exercise any 
privilege to which I am or may become entitled to disturb or weaken 
the Protestant religion or Protestant Government in the United King- 
dom." 

From the other quarter, the Fenian camp, came the sub- 
joined handbill, distributed in thousands throughout the 

city: 

"No Surrender. 

" Nationalists, — An attempt at a revival of the slavish organization 
that leaves you bondsmen and whining slaves to-day is about being 
tried on in Ireland once more by a clique of un-God-fearing [sic], 
place-hunting, cowardly political agitators composed of rack-renting 
landlords, briefless barristers, anti-Irish bishops, parish priests, cur- 
ates, and hireling, renegade, perjured press-men. Will you, eighteen 
thousand Dublin Nationalists, tolerate this West-British faction to 
demoralize your manhood again ? Never 1 ' Put your trust in God, 
my boys, and keep your powder dry.' " 

Whether it was that the Orangemen trusted to the Fenians 
to do the work, while the Fenians relied on the Orangemen 
for the duty, was never clearly explained, but, strange to say, 
the meeting was held without let or hindrance, disorder or 
disturbance. The Most Eev. Dr. Oullen proposed the first 
resolution, declaring war against the Establishment. The 



"DELENDA EST CARTHAGO!" 401 

most important incident of the day, however, was the read- 
ing of the subjoined letter, which laid down the terms of 
the alliance that eventually led to the overthrow of the State 
Church in Ireland : 

"Rochdale, December 23, 1864. 
" My dear Lord Mayor, 

"I have to thank your committee for their friendly invitation to 
their approaching meeting, although I shall not be able to avail myself 
of it. I am glad to see that an effort is to be made to force on some 
political advance in your country. The objects you aim at are good, 
and I hope you may succeed. On the question of landlord and tenant 
I think you should go farther and seek to do more. What you want 
in Ireland is to break down the laws of primogeniture and entail, so 
that in course of time by gradual and just process the Irish people 
may become the possessors of the soil of Ireland. A legal security for 
tenants' improvements will be of great value, but the true remedy for 
your great grievance is to base the laws which affect the land upon 
sound principles of political economy. With regard to the State 
Church, that is an institution so evil and so odious under the circum- 
stances of your country that it makes one almost hopeless of Irish 
freedom from it that Irishmen have borne it so long. The whole 
Liberal party in Great Britain will doubtless join with you in demand- 
ing the removal of a wrong which has no equal in the character of a 
national insult in any other civilized and Christian country in the 
world. If the popular party in Ireland would adopt as its policy 
' Free Land and Free Church,' and would unii;e with the popular party 
in England and Scotland for the advance of liberal moasures, and 
especially for the promotion of an honest amendment of the represen- 
tation, I am confident that great and beneficial changes might be made 
within a few years. We have on our side numbers and opinion ; but 
we want a more distinct policy and a better organization ; and these, 
I hope, to some extent, your meeting may supply. 

" Tours very truly, John Bright." 

The terms which this letter so formally proposed were 
fully accepted by those to whom the offer was made. The 
National Association of Ireland adopted " Free Land and 
Free Church " as its policy. But only under the chastening 
influences of adversity were the parliamentary chiefs of Eng- 
lish Liberalism brought to embrace it as theirs. It was only 



402 NEW IRELAND. 

after they had been stripped of power and thrust from office, 
and had borne the bitterness of many a defeat, that misfor- 
tune eventually led them to discover in Disestablishment a 
way to victory, honor, and fame. 

The House of Commons had long been familiar with the 
Irish Church motion, which, in one shape or another, made 
its appearance from time to time. The English Noncon- 
formists, under Mr. Miall or Mr. Dillwyn, aided by the Irish 
Catholic Liberals, had their occasional field-day on the sub- 
ject. Up to 1865 only a very languid interest was excited 
by these efforts ; and the utmost that could be extracted from 
even the most friendly administration was an occasional civil 
word, or an oracular reference to what might perchance be 
possible in the paulo-post-future of British politics. On the 
28th of March, 1865, on a resolution offered by Mr. Dill- 
wyn, there ensued a debate in the House of Commons, in 
the course of which appeared the first faint gleam of what 
was dawning on Mr. Gladstone's mind. The Government, 
speaking through Sir George Grey, repelled the motion de- 
cisively enough, but Mr. Gladstone, then Chancellor of the 
Exchequer, changed the "never" of previous years into a 
significant "not yet." The Irish Church motion of 1866, 
moved on the 10th of April by Sir John Gray, brought out 
the fact that the administration had taken a few paces for- 
ward on the subject. On this occasion the Government did 
not exactly oppose the motion, though they did not accede 
to it. Mr. Chichester Eortescue, the Irish Chief Secretary, 
improved somewhat upon Mr. Gladstone's "not yet" by 
wishing the cause of Disestablishment " Godspeed." Two 
months latter on — in June, 1866 — the Liberal party was not 
merely defeated but wrecked ; the Eussell-Gladstone minis- 
try, deserted and assailed by the reactionary Whig section of 
their followers (known throughout the incident as the " Adul- 
lamite Cave"), fell from power, and a Conservative adminis- 
tration, under Lord Derby as Premier, and Mr. Disraeli as 
Chancellor of the Exchequer, assumed the seals of office. 



"DELEXDA EST CARTHAGO!" 403 

Meanwhile, the Irish "National Association" was not a 
success. Although supported by a great array of episcopal 
power, it never in any marked degree attracted popular sym- 
pathy or support. Public feeling in Ireland was strongly in 
favor of the objects it had proposed ; but the objection to 
fusing with the English Whig- Liberal party for any object 
seemed all but insuperable. Mr. Gladstone was no doubt fa- 
vorably regarded ; but Mr. Lowe was more than mistrusted, 
while Earl Russell, as the author of the Ecclesiastical Titles 
Act, was the object of downright hostility. There was, how- 
ever, one man confessedly among English Liberals whom no 
one could call a Whig, and whom all admired for his sterling 
independence ; a man who stood almost alone among the 
leading English orators and statesmen of his time in this, 
that when his voice was raised to denounce oppression and 
wrong, wherever prevailing, he did not shrink from includ- 
ing Ireland in the scope of his sympathies. That man was 
John Bright. In the summer of 1866 there occurred to Mr. 
J. B. Dillon the happy thought of entertaining Mr. Bright 
at a national banquet in Dublin. On the 21st of August a 
formal and public invitation signed by twenty-three of the 
Irish members was forwarded to Mr. Bright, to which on 
the 1st of September he returned an answer accepting the 
proposed compliment. No other project could have been 
devised which at the time would have rallied or reassembled 
to the same extent the hitherto divided and hostile elements 
of Irish popular politics ; yet at first it seemed a hazardous 
experiment. Not without some doubts and misgivings were 
the circulars issued which convened a private conference to 
consider the matter at the Imperial Hotel in Dublin. The 
response, however, was more than encouraging. All sections 
of the Irish popular party cordially concurred in the proposal. 

In the course of thirty years' experience of Irish politics, I 
never knew anything to exceed the personal bitterness of lan- 
guage which the proposal to fete John Bright called forth in 
the Irish Conservative journals. Not only was he the object 



404 NEW IRELAND. 

of the fiercest invective, but a very palpable endeavor was 
made to excite against him personal violence. In the Gov- 
ernment organs — Lord Derby had come into office in June — 
there was a continuous effort to set the Fenians at the Bright 
banquet and induce them to break it up. To many of the 
committee this seemed no insignificant peril ; and their fears 
were increased a hundredfold by a lamentable event which for 
a time threatened to overwhelm the project. This was the 
death, after barely a few days' illness, of Mr. Dillon, the 
moving spirit of the whole proceeding. He was known to 
have considerable influence with the Fenian party, or rather 
it was well known that most of the leaders and nearly all the 
"rank and file" of that party shared the feelings of respect 
and affection in which he was held by the bulk of his country- 
men. He himself had not been free from uneasiness as to 
attempts at disturbance ; and now that he was gone the proba- 
bilities of such a misfortune were greatly increased. I did 
not share these apprehensions as regards any serious inter- 
ference by Fenians ; but I did fully expect that, incited by 
the extreme-ascendency newspapers, persons of a different 
stamp would purchase tickets with a view so to conduct them- 
selves at the banquet as to mar its effect and give the much- 
desired pretext for declaring it a failure. That some open 
insult or affront would be offered to Mr. Bright by such 
emissaries, I as well as my colleagues on the committee felt 
quite convinced. Up to the decease of Mr. Dillon I had not 
taken any very special or prominent part in the preparations, 
but for many reasons I uoav undertook the chief responsi- 
bility for the arrangements within the banquet-room, on the 
sole condition that I should be joined by two friends whom I 
selected, and that we should be free to take such steps as we 
might deem requisite to maintain order. This being settled, 
I took good care to diffuse in the proper quarters a notifica- 
tion that we intended to "make it hot" for disturbers, and 
that the man who entered the banquet-hall with purpose to 
insult our guest (as was but too plainly threatened in some 



" DELENDA EST CARTHAGO!" 405 

of the Tory papers) must be prepared for all consequences. I 
drew a plan or diagram by which the room was to be seated, 
each chair numbered, and each table indicated by a colored 
banner. "We, moreover, had an alphabetical register kept of 
the name and address of every ticket-holder, with the num- 
ber of his assigned seat. By this means we could tell in 
what exact spot a suspicious visitor would be placed, and 
could arrange accordingly. Never was check-mate more 
complete. About a dozen intending ticket-purchasers turned 
away "disgusted" with this new-fangled idea of having their 
names, addresses, and occupations registered on a numbered 
seat. We knew these gentlemen well, and knew what they 
meant to do ; but, pretending to regard them as admirers of 
John Bright, we " confidentially " whispered to them the 
motive of our arrangement. They "changed their minds," 
and bought no tickets. 

The banquet was held on the 30th of October, and was a 
success beyond all anticipation. It was the great event of the 
year. No more splendid assemblage, none more influential 
or numerous, had gathered at a political dinner in Ireland 
within our generation. The chair, which would have been 
filled by our lamented friend Mr. Dillon, was occupied by 
The O'Donoghue, M.P., then at the zenith of his popularity. 
Mr. Bright received an ovation rarely equaled in warmth 
and enthusiasm. 

While he was speaking, amidst breathless silence, a voice 
suddenly interrupted with some rude observation. On any 
other occasion the incident might have passed unnoticed, but 
now the rumor of a " black bottle " scene* was in every one's 

* On the 14th of December, 1822, on the occasion of the Marquis 
Wellesley, Lord Lieutenant, visiting the Theater Royal, Dublin, an 
organized disturbance on the part of the Orangemen took place, in re- 
sentment of his Excellency's sympathy with Catholic Emancipation. 
The affray is always referred to as the " black bottle " riot,— a black 
bottle having been flung at the Viceroy by an Orangeman in the top 
gallery. 



406 NEW IRELAND. 

mind, and the merest trifle was enough to create alarm. I 
knew by reference to the marked plan in my pocket that the 
interrupter was very unlikely to he present with evil intent, 
yet I feared what might occur if a panic set in. Two stew- 
ards remonstrated with him ; hut he seemed beyond his own 
control. A second and a third time he shouted some inco- 
herent observation, when, on a pre-arranged signal, four 
athletic stewards whipped him bodily out of his seat and 
bore him gently out of the room. The thing was done so 
swiftly, quietly, and smoothly that it was all over in a few 
seconds. Then there burst forth a cheer so loud and long that 
one might have thought something of great importance had 
been accomplished. It meant that the assemblage realized 
how completely the threat of an anti-Bright disturbance had 
collapsed in the face of a little energy and determination. 

With the fall of the Eussell-Grladstone ministry in June, 
1866, there set in a two years' spell of such parliamentary 
confusion and vacillation as had not been known since Lord 
Melbourne's time. The Tory ministry were too weak to 
rule, the Liberal opposition too feeble and too hopelessly 
disintegrated to displace them. In the House of Lords 
Lord Derby led a flowing majority, but in the Commons 
Mr. Disraeli had to deal with chaos come again. It was 
impossible to tell from day to day with anything like cer- 
tainty in what lobby, with ministers or against them, a 
majority would be found voting. Now it was one way, anon 
another. Amidst a state of circumstances so adverse the 
great question of Eeform worked its way to a remarkable 
conclusion. Mr. Disraeli would contend that he was the 
real friend of a popular franchise ; but it was with gloomy 
fears the Reformers saw him undertake to fondle what they 
declared he meant to strangle. He was, however, a facile 
foe. He adapted his policy to the peculiarities of the situa- 
tion. He took defeats in a most Christian spirit, and be- 
came all things to all majorities. Eventually, to his own 
great surprise (vailed under well-feigned satisfaction), he 






" DELENDA EST CARTHAGO ! " 407 

found himself the author of the most radical suffrage bill 
ever passed under the auspices of a British Cabinet. 

Throughout this period, from the summer of 1866 to the 
end of 1867, the English Liberal party in Parliament, rent 
by discord and weakened by defection, presented a pitiable 
spectacle. Mr. Gladstone at one time seemed about to retire 
in disgust from the leadership of the broken and dispirited 
array. In vain was an issue sought on which they might 
be rallied as of old in a compact body. On no domestic 
(English) question that could be devised or discerned was it 
found practicable to reunite them ; and what caused most 
dismay on the Opposition benches was the conviction that 
were any such question to be discovered, Mr. Disraeli would 
not improbably "cut them out" by espousing it himself. 
The Tory leader who, in order to hold on by the Treasury 
Bench, has passed a Household Suffrage Bill was not a man 
to stick at trifles. 

When the outlook seemed darkest, however, a light arose 
over the path of the Liberals, and it came from Ireland. 

An incident, apparently trivial, in the council-chamber of 
the Dublin Corporation a year or two before had brought 
about results which led right up to Disestablishment. 

On the threshold of the new movement in Ireland the ex- 
treme section of the Irish Conservative party resorted to a 
course of action which many of them subsequently bewailed 
as most unwise and impolitic, — as the real beginning of their 
overthrow. Taking their cue from the manifesto of the 
i Grand Orange Lodge on the 28th of December, 1864, they 
sought to stop the Catholics by means of the odious "Cath- 
olic Oath." It was known that several prominent Catholic 
politicians, peers and commoners, had felt themselves pre- 
cluded from joining in any Disestablishment agitation or 
debate by this clause in " the Catholic oaths." In the case 
of Catholics becoming members of a civic corporation there 
was this painful aggravation of the grievance, that Prot- 
estants were required to take no oath at all, while Catholics, 



408 NEW IRELAND. 

and Catholics alone, were, so to speak, put on their knees at 
the bar and compelled to swear fealty to the Church Estab- 
lishment. Many good and honorable men explained it away 
satisfactorily to their consciences ; but for my own part I 
felt that I could not subscribe to such an oath ; and when I 
was elected to a seat in the Municipal Council of Dublin in 
1862, I decided to refuse it. The penalty which I incurred 
by such a course was a fine of five hundred pounds and dis- 
qualification. I judged that one of two results would ensue 
from my refusal : either I should pass unsworn without chal- 
lenge or interference, and all other Catholics subsequently 
elected would do the same, and the obnoxious law would 
become a dead letter ; or else I should be prosecuted, and 
the imposition of fine and punishment upon me would so 
arouse public opinion as to the insulting character of such 
tests that Parliament would assuredly sweep them away. 

On perfecting before Mr. Henry, town clerk, the statutory 
declaration as to my property qualification, that gentleman 
intimated to me that there now remained for me only to 
"go before a magistrate, take the oath, and sign the roll." 

" There is Alderman Bonsall just gone up-stairs," said I : 
" has he taken the oath ? " (I knew well he had not ; for the 
alderman was a leading Tory of very Orange hue.) 

" Oh, he need not take it : he is not a Catholic," replied 
Mr. Henry. 

" Well, Mr. Town Clerk," I rejoined, " call upon me to 
take the oath when Alderman Bonsall is sworn, but not till 
then. If he is free, so must I be." 

I took my seat unsworn, and for some period was not mo- 
lested. At length I was denounced to justice in the Daily 
Express for a violation of the statute in this case made and 
provided ; and one morning as the council was about to 
assemble I was informed that the Lord Mayor had been 
officially called upon to give me into custody, or to take 
other requisite steps, if I spoke or voted as a councillor that 
day. The Lord Mayor was the Hon. John P. Vereker, son 



"DELENDA EST CARTHAGO!" 409 

of Lord Gort, a stanch Conservative, a man of broad and 
generous spirit. He called me aside and told me of the 
demand that had been made upon him. 

" "Well, my Lord, do your duty," I said, "and let not our 
personal friendship put you in any official difficulty on my 
account. I have measured the consequences of my course, 
and must face them." 

" Oh," he replied, " I have given the parties my an- 
swer." 

"And what is that?" 

" That I have no official knowledge of your religious 
creed, having never examined you in the decrees of the 
Council of Trent, the Thirty-nine Articles, or the West- 
minster Confession of Faith." 

I heard no more just then of the threatened penalty or the 
unsworn oaths. 

On the 1st of January, 1865, the civic council were in the 
act of passing to Alderman MacSwiney, the outgoing Lord 
Mayor, who had presided at the inaugural meeting of the 
National Association, the customary vote of thanks on the 
close of his year of office, when a Conservative councillor, 
Mr. Pilkington, jumped suddenly to his feet, and objected to 
the vote, on the distinct ground that the outgoing dignitary 
had been false to his oath in respect of the Church by law 
established. This charge of public perjury against the man 
who had barely laid down the wand of office as chief magis- 
trate of the city — and perjury on such grounds ! — flung the 
council into the wildest indignation. Of course the imputa- 
tion was fiercely resented, scornfully repelled ; but the Con- 
servatives followed it up by reading the ipsissima verba of 
the oath relied upon to sustain their accusation. The vote 
was passed, but the Catholic and Liberal members vowed 
that the matter should not rest there. Out-of-doors the ef- 
fect was equally strong. A cry arose for the sweeping away 
of these offensive barriers between citizens of different creeds. 
The municipal council itself formally commenced an agita- 
18 



410 NEW IRELAND. 

tion against "Obnoxious Oaths." A special meeting was 
convened with great display to debate the question. By 
unanimous resolution it was ordered that a petition praying 
for the abolition of these invidious test declarations should be 
presented at the bar of the House of Commons by the Lord 
Mayor in state. The other municipalities of Ireland caught 
the excitement. Deputations, addresses, petitions, resolu- 
tions, on the " Obnoxious Oaths," kept the public mind in a 
ferment. The ascendency yoke that, as John Bright com- 
plained, seemed to have lain so lightly on Irish necks now 
grew intolerable. The opportunity that so long had been 
sought for and waited for had come at last. It was decided 
to break ground against the Church by an attack on the Test 
Oaths. The Grand Orange Lodge on that 28th of December, 
1864, and Mr. Pilkington on the 1st of January, 1865, had 
applied a torch to the pile they thought to defend ! 

Over the Catholic Oaths Bill from the session of 1865 to 
that of 1867 the great battle that was soon to come in earnest 
was fought in miniature, and fought on ground the most 
favorable that could have been found for the attacking 
party. The oaths were manifestly indefensible. Mr. Dis- 
raeli saw it, felt it, virtually confessed it ; but every one 
knew that they were now assailed as the outposts of the 
Church, and so the abolition was doggedly resisted. In two 
sessions consecutively the Commons passed the measure ; as 
often did it fail in the House of Lords. Eighteen hundred 
and sixty-seven found the Establishment outposts intact, but 
the movement against them had served the purpose of the 
assailants as effectually as capture would have done. Events 
of considerable importance had, as we shall see, occurred 
meantime. All over the land " Delenda est Carthago " was 
the cry. The moment had arrived for the storming of the 
stronghold ! 



CHAPTEE XXVI. 

DISESTABLISHMENT. 

"When the first inevitable burst of indignation and anger 
called forth in England by the Fenian conspiracy had a little 
subsided, there began to dawn on the minds of the English 
people an idea that there must after all be " something rot- 
ten " in the state of Ireland. This was perplexing ; because 
it was in utter contradiction to all that the authorities upon 
whom they most relied had told them about that country. 
They had been assured that, whatever might have been the 
case in the past, Ireland "now" had no cause of complaint : 
she was loyal and contented, happy, wealthy, and prosper- 
ous, with pigs abounding and bullocks thriving. At no time 
were these assurances so frequently and so strongly indulged 
in as during the years immediately preceding the Fenian 
outbreak. "The land laws? They are excellent ; 'tenant 
right' means 'landlord wrong.' The Church ? No griev- 
ance at all ; this is a Protestant realm, and Koman Catholic 
ascendency is what the Irish priests are really after. Home 
legislation ? A cry for the moon ; we cannot break up the 
empire. Education ? The Irish have the schools we know 
to be the best for them ; whereas they had none previously." 
Thus the story ran. If an honest Irishman had the temerity 
to hint a doubt of it, — dared to say there was any discontent 
in Ireland, or any reason why there should be, — he was 
savagely set upon, called an incendiary, and denounced as a 
calumniator.* 

* So late as the 23d of May, 1867, an Irish member (Mr. J. F. Ma- 
guire), having ventured to blame the existing state of things, was thus 

411 



412 NEW IRELAND. 

In the midst of such declarations came the Fenian con- 
spiracy, with its sad and horrible incidents in Manchester 
and London. At first, of course, Englishmen thought only 
of vindicating the outraged majesty of the law ; but when it 
had been vindicated — when the executioner had done his 
work, and the chain-gangs at Portland and Chatham had 
been reinforced by political convicts — there began to creep 
through England a doubt that the newspapers and the vice- 
roys and the chief secretaries could have been all right as to 
Ireland "now" having no cause of complaint. A serious 
doubt truly. The consoling array of pig statistics and green- 
crop extension and fat-stock multiplication had been to Eng- 
lish expectation as equivocal in prophecy as the witches' 
promise to the Thane of Fife. 

The better nature of Englishmen was touched and aroused 
by the spectacle opened to their contemplation in this lament- 
able Fenian business. They were much impressed by the 
exhibition of such reckless fanaticism mingled with patriotic 
self-immolation. But more, much more, were they moved by 
the serious circumstance that the Irish multitude who had 
rejected, condemned, or refused to join the Fenian scheme 
were clearly none the less in moral revolt against the state 
of things around them. All over Britain a murmur, soon to 

answered in the House of Commons by Mr. Boebuck, M.P. : " The 
honorable gentleman rushes into the whole subject of Irish grievances. 
Now, in the first place, I will make an admission : that up to 1829 
nothing could have been worse than the government of Ireland. I will 
allow that. But from that time to this the House has been doing all 
it could to alleviate the physical, the constitutional, and the moral inju- 
ries of Ireland. There have, however, been obstacles, and among the 
chief of those is the language used by the honorable gentleman 
(cheers). Can honorable members think that their poor, uneducated, 
miserable countrymen in Ireland will see the truth when they them- 
selves, here in this house and before the people of England, dare to 
say that we are unjust to Ireland ? Why, I say that a more foul cal- 
umny, a more gigantic falsehood, was never uttered." 

And this was within less than a year of Mr. Gladstone's Disestab- 
lishment Besolutions. 



DISESTABLISHMENT. 413 

be a cry, arose that there must be a cause for political symp- 
toms so plain and terrible as these. When once the Eng- 
lish nation, awaking to the existence of an evil, exclaims 
that "Something must be done," old wrongs and venerable 
anomalies, one and all, have need to tremble ; for the "some- 
thing " that is done is often that only which happens to be 
nearest to hand or is selected almost at hap-hazard. 

" What can we do for Ireland ? " was the question uttered 
in good faith and with just intent by thousands of English- 
men. " What are the grievances which we can remedy for 
our Irish fellow-subjects ? We cannot listen to their de- 
mands for national autonomy, but whatever else we can do 
for them that will be for their good (or rather that we shall 
consider to be for their good) shall be done." 

The growth of these ideas and feelings throughout Eng- 
land, long before it had reached this decisive stage, was noted 
by the leading members of the English Liberation Society. 
They saw a grand opportunity, and promptly turned it to 
account. They poured through the land invectives against 
the Irish Law Church. They said to Englishmen, "You 
desire to know what ails Ireland. Here it is. You desire to 
befriend Ireland, to end misgovemment and make reparation 
for the past ; you want to know what to do. Do this. Sweep 
away this cruel oppression, this fruitful source of heart-burn- 
ing and strife. Abolish this hateful caste, this sectarian gar- 
rison, which has only made Irishmen hate you when they 
might have learned to love you. Tell the Catholic millions 
of Ireland that henceforth all creeds are equal in the eye of 
the law, and, possessing religious equality, they will become 
happy and contented citizens of the empire." 

To Englishmen in the mood of the time it was a thrice- 
welcome voice that spoke so opportunely and so well. Some 
no doubt there were who did not like the Liberation Society 
or its designs in England ; but this Disestablishment was to 
be over there in Ireland, not at their own doors. They cried 
aloud, "Let it be done." 



414 NEW IRELAND. 

Less sagacious men than the Liberal leaders in England 
could see what all these signs proclaimed. The time was 
ripe for a bold and great policy. On the Irish Church ques- 
tion the Conservative leader durst not venture to compete 
with them. Here was the ground on which to engage and 
overthrow him. Here was a policy on which the Liberal 
party could be reconstructed and endowed, with new life and 
power. No ' £ caves " would be formed, no mutinies attempted, 
on this line of march. The united Liberalism of England, 
Ireland, and Scotland would go forward with one heart and 
one mind on this issue. 

On the 7th of April, 1867, Sir John Gray, following up 
his motion of the previous year, moved the House of Com- 
mons to declare that on the 27th instant it would resolve 
itself into a committee on the Irish Church. Even at this 
date Mr. Gladstone was hesitant, and supported the "pre- 
vious question," with which the motion was encountered ; 
but, strange to say, he did not cast his vote on either side. 
Two months later the coming storm was sufficiently dis- 
cerned, and the House of Lords determined upon the feeble 
expedient of a "royal commission." It was moved for on 
the 24th of June, 1867, and appointed on the 30th of Octo- 
ber following, Earl Stanhope being chairman. Between the 
summer of 1867 and the spring of 1868 the country passed 
through the sharpest crisis of the Fenian alarms : the 
Manchester Eescue and executions, the attempt to seize 
Chester Castle, and the Irish risings, had one after another 
aroused excitement and panic. The state of Ireland — be- 
tween conspiracy and insurrection on the one hand, and sus- 
pension of all constitutional government on the other — was 
a European scandal. On Tuesday the 10th of March, 1868, 
a great debate which extended over four days was commenced 
in the House of Commons, on a motion by Mr. J. F. Ma- 
guire for a committee to consider the condition of that 
country. It was upon this occasion that Mr. Gladstone at 
length plunged across the Rubicon. On the fourth day of 






DISESTABLISHMENT. 415 

the debate, the 16th of March, 18G8, he declared that the 
time had come when the Irish Church Establishment must 
fall. On his announcement that he would forthwith him- 
self present the issue definitely to the House, both the reso- 
lution and amendment were withdrawn ; and on the 23d of 
March he introduced his memorable "Resolutions." The 
debate formally opened on the 30th of March, when minis- 
ters were overthrown, the motion to go into committee on 
the resolutions being carried by a yote of 331 to 270. The 
debate in the committee was prosecuted with equal vigor. 
It lasted over eleven nights, closing at 3 A. m. on the morn- 
ing of the 1st of May, 1868, when the first resolution was 
carried by a vote of 330 to 265. Four days afterward Mr. 
Disraeli announced that ministers had tendered their resig- 
nation, but that the Queen wished them to retain office 
"until the state of public business would admit of a disso- 
lution," which would accordingly take place in the autumn. 
It was a clever stroke to hold on to office throughout the dis- 
solution ; all the advantages of official power, usually con- 
sidered to be worth thirty votes in a general election, thus 
being secured. On the 7th of May the second and third of 
Mr. Gladstone's resolutions were carried in committee. On 
the 16th, just as they were being finally affirmed by the 
House, Lord Stanhope's commission of the previous year, 
which everybody seemed to have forgotten, appeared with 
their report on the Irish Church, recommending the aboli- 
tion of half a dozen bishoprics, and sundry minor "reforms." 
It evoked a shout of derision. The time had passed for 
half-measures. Like the abdication of Louis Philippe in 
the revolution of February, '48, the proposal was hailed with 
a cry of " Too late ! too late ! " 

On the 13th of May Mr. Gladstone introduced the " Sus- 
pensory Bill," to prevent new interests being created pending 
Disestablishment. On the 22d it was read by a vote of 312 
to 258. It went triumphantly through the Commons, and 
was brought into the House of Lords on the 18th of June, 



416 NEW IRELAND. 

where, after a debate of three days' duration, it was, on the 
25th, rejected by a vote of 192 to 97. This was the last 
stroke of an expiring power, — an ebullition of puerile and 
impotent hostility. 

On the 31st of July, 1868, Parliament was prorogued ; on 
the 11 th of November it was dissolved by proclamation, and 
ministers "appealed to the country." The interval between 
the passage of Mr. Gladstone's resolutions in May and the 
dissolution in November had been devoted to the most stren- 
uous preparations for the struggle. Already the Liberal 
party had begun to reap the fruits of their new policy. Al- 
ready they had exchanged disunion for unanimity, weakness 
for strength. Though office had been withheld from them, 
power was once more theirs. Once more they had, by sweep- 
ing majorities, defeated their opponents in the parliamentary 
lists. With a fierce energy they now prepared to overwhelm 
them at the hustings. 

The Irish Protestants stripped to the fight with great 
spirit, although they must have felt that they were on the 
side of a lost cause. In Ulster, no doubt, their proceedings 
were disfigured by characteristic bombast and threat. The 
line taken by the Orangemen in that province was that the 
coronation oath forbade the Queen to allow Disestablish- 
ment, and that she would be perjured if she signed the bill ; 
that it would be an overthrow of our Protestant constitu- 
tion in Church and State; that "the men of Ulster," who 
had driven James II. from the throne for like attempts, were 
ready and determined as ever now in the same good cause. 
The Eev. Mr. Flanagan, chaplain in the Orange Society, ad- 
dressing a vast concourse of his fellow-members, publicly 
warned all whom it might concern that "the men of Ulster" 
had ere now kicked a crown into the Boyne. 

No one, however, attached any importance to all this. 
For a long time it has been accepted as the harmless tradi- 
tional prerogative of " Ulster," as the Orange societies call 
themselves, to intimate to the British nation that it is on the 



DISESTABLISHMENT. 417 

qui vive, and that when Ulster is on the watch England may 
be easy in her mind ; that Ulster is and ever has been the 
mainstay and protector of the realm ; that it was Ulster and 
not England that made the glorious Eevolution ; and that 
several hundreds of thousands of Ulstermen are always 
ready to march somewhere against somebody, to uphold 
England as long as she behaves herself well and is true to 
the principles of 1G90.* 

This, however, was only among a section of the Irish 
Church Protestants, — by no means the most influential sec- 
tion, though it certainly may be the noisiest. As a general 
rule, a grave and earnest spirit was displayed. No more se- 
rious, no more able defense could have been made for any 
political institution than that which the Irish Conservatives 
put forth on behalf of their Church in 1868. Although as 
against the bulk of their own countrymen they had no case, 
against the British Parliament they certainly established one 
that was unanswerable. Most Englishmen regarded and dis- 
cussed their plea solely as it affected the one issue just then 
before them, and never gave a thought further to it once 
that issue was decided by the passing of the Disestablish- 
ment Bill. But the arguments upon that case — the pamph- 
lets, the speeches, the essays, the letters — were destined to 
have singular and important results not generally foreseen in 
England at the time. They led to subsequent events which, 
to the view of the ordinary English observer, appeared to be 
totally new, quite independent of the question thus disposed 
of ; but beneath the surface they were connected with it, and 
arose from it like the dip and crop of geological strata. 

That defense of the Irish Church was based mainly on 
the Act of Union. There were of course other grounds, — 

* During the Crimean War of 1854 and the Indian Mutiny of 1857 
they were appealed to in some Irish newspapers to send out a body of 
even two or three thousand men — a couple of regiments — out of all 
these "hundreds of thousands," but not a corporal's guard volun- 
teered from the lodges. 
18* 



418 NEW IRELAND. 

plenty of them ; but one by one they were evacuated as un- 
tenable under the fire of argument, logic, and fact poured 
against them from the other side. Here alone the Church 
party were confessedly in a strong position. The fifth article 
of the Act of Union between England and Ireland solemnly 
declared the maintenance forever of the Irish Church estab- 
lishment, or rather the incorporation of that establishment 
with the English as "the United Church of England and 
Ireland," to be a " fundamental and essential" stipulation and 
condition. The English language could not more explicitly 
set forth a solemn and perpetual covenant between two 
parties than this article set forth the contract between the 
episcopal Protestants of Ireland and the imperial Parlia- 
ment.* By the Act of Union there were to be not two 
establishments but one establishment, — " the Established 
Church of England and Ireland," the then previously exist- 
ing Irish establishment being merged and absorbed into this 
one, the maintenance of which forever was thus stipulated. 
It was not open to an English minister to treat them now as 
two. Together as one they were to stand or fall, — or rather 
forever to stand ; but as to falling, the Union was to fall too if 
the establishment so guaranteed should ever fail to be main- 
tained. Of course there were many splendid efforts of argu- 
ment and eloquence, as well as many learned disquisitions 
and much legal casuistry, forthcoming on the Liberal or Dis- 
establishment side, to show how Parliament could break the 
pact thus relied upon ; but nothing could get over the explicit 

* " Article 5th. That the Churches of England and Ireland as now 
by law established be united into one Protestant episcopal Church, 
to be called • the United Church of England and Ireland/ and the 
doctrine, worship, discipline, and government of the said United 
Church shall be and shall remain in full force forever as the same are 
now by law established for the Church of England, and the continu- 
ance and preservation of the said United Church as the established 
Church of England and Ireland shall be deemed and taken to be an 
essential and fundamental part of the Union." 



DISESTABLISHMENT. 419 

declaration that this stipulation was to be "fundamental and 
essential " to the Union. Once it was gone the Union was no 
more. The Church defenders admittedly had the best case ; 
but Mr. Gladstone had the logic of big battalions on his side. 

It cannot be wondered at that all this flung the Irish Prot- 
estant mind back upon the period at which the Union com- 
pact was formed, and tended to raise the question whether 
Irish Protestants would not have fared better if they had not 
entered into that treaty, but had made terms with the Irish 
community. These thoughts and reflections found frequent 
utterance in the speeches of the Irish Church party, especially 
in protests addressed by them to England. " There are many 
of us," they said, " who, keeping faith with you as long as 
you kept it with us, have, on this account, accepted and acted 
on the theory that Ireland was merged by the Union. You 
teach us otherwise now. Do not complain hereafter if we 
act accordingly." 

Neither in Ireland nor in England was this latter intima- 
tion much believed in or attended to at the time. " They do 
not mean it," said the Irish Catholics. " It is but an idle 
menace," said the English Liberals. 

It was indeed an exciting time when, avowedly, on this one 
question the three kingdoms were summoned to the polls in 
the autumn of 1808. In Ireland the days of 1829 seemed 
to have come again. All the feelings, passions, antagonisms 
of that era burst forth anew. There were but two parties in 
the island, — those who fought for Disestablishment and 
those who fought against it. All were for the moment 
either Liberals or Conservatives. Even the Fenians — who 
had spilled the blood of their own countrymen and fellow- 
Nationalists in putting down public meetings and forbidding 
any popular manifestations of a non-Separatist character — 
fell into the ranks on the Liberal side, or else maintained a 
"benevolent neutrality." The Nation, on behalf of the 
Repeal or Constitutional-Nationalist party, though ever 
since 1852 maintaining an invincible opposition to "Whig- 



420 NEW IRELAND. 

Liberalism, now formally proclaimed that in this great crisis 
every friend of civil and religious liberty must march shoulder 
to shoulder. The Liberals had not had such an auspicious 
time in Ireland for thirty years. 

One day, in the thick of the battle, the door of my room 
was rather violently pushed open, and a friend whom I knew 
to be actively engaged in the elections stepped hurriedly in. 

" I have something of the utmost urgency and importance 
to put before you," he said. "You have it in your power 
now not alone to pay off the ascendency men for their last base 
attempt against you, but you can furthermore strike a stun- 
ning blow for Disestablishment. Are you ready and willing ? " 

As he eagerly put his question he gave me a slap on the 
shoulder, as much as to say, " Of course you are." 

The "base attempt " against me to which he alluded was a 
proceeding which gave rise to very heated feelings in Dublin, 
and which I must say incensed and imbittered myself at the 
time. 

While in the previous month of May I lay fast bound 
under bolts and bars as a political prisoner in Eichmond, 
notice was publicly given of the intention of my fellow 
members of the municipal council to nominate me as Lord 
Mayor for the ensuing year. Instantly on learning this fact 
I declined, in the most positive manner, the honor thus pro- 
posed to be conferred upon me ; which indeed could only 
have been meant as a demonstration of personal and public 
feeling in view of my imprisonment. I received, however, 
from the leading members of the Conservative party the 
kindliest assurances that if I. wished to allow the nomination 
it would be unopposed by them, — would be, in fact, unani- 
mous. That these declarations were given in good faith, 
that any compliment which I would accept and was in their 
power consistently to offer would be readily extended to me, 
was attested by their frank and generous conduct toward me 
at all times previously. Nevertheless, so fierce and high did 
party feeling run under the influence of the Disestablishment 



DISESTABLISHMENT. 421 

excitement, that in November an attempt was made, by order 
of the Conservative party managers, to invalidate my seat in 
the council, and to strike my name off the burgess roll, on 
the ground that I was for registration purposes "dead in 
law," or "resident" nowhere, during my incarceration. A 
lengthy legal argument decided the case in my favor ; but the 
resort to such a proceeding, though it could hardly be called 
" a blow below the belt " in party warfare, had unquestion- 
ably a most bitter and exasperating influence on local feeling. 

" Now you can pay those fellows off," said my friend. 

"In what way ?" 

" "Will you stand for a seat ? " 

" Pooh ! I have answered that sort of question often enough 
within the past five years, and in two instances recently to 
your own knowledge. No, I will not." 

" But in this case you can do a lasting service to the cause ; 
you will either carry the seat for yourself, or else save four 
others we may otherwise lose. Don't you be writing in the 
Nation about the duty of exertion and sacrifice at this crisis, 
if you yourself will not do this." 

"But, even apart from personal disinclination, the Nation 
has never said that a hard-working journalist is bound to 
spend a thousand pounds for the honor and glory of render- 
ing laborious service at Westminster. Men of ambition, men 
of fortune, or men with personal advantages in view, may 
do so. I will not." 

"'I am instructed to place fifteen hundred pounds at your 
disposal for your election-expenses. " 

"And what seat do you want me to contest ?" 
1 "Dublin County." 

"Dublin fiddlesticks ! You are not serious ! " 

But he was. The state of the case as he put it was this. 
The Government (House of Commons) "whip," Colonel 
Taylor, was member for Dublin County. He was the official 
chief of the Tory election campaigners. Deeming his own 
seat perfectly secure, — up to this time it was not menaced, — 



422 NEW IRELAND. ' 

his hands were free, and he was making busy use of them in 
pushing attack or directing defense throughout the country. 
There were at least three or four of the boroughs in the prov- 
inces which the Liberals could carry if the Tory electioneer- 
ing head center could be called off to serious self-defense in 
Dublin, but "if not, not." No trivial attack, no palpable 
feint, would suffice. The "villa-voters," as they are called, 
around the Irish metropolis are largely composed of middle- 
class Tory gentlemen, or petty gentry who own little proper- 
ties or rent-charges, entitling them to vote in distant bor- 
oughs or counties. They like to reside near "the Coort," 
where, as Thackeray puts it, they may sometimes figure at 
" the Castle" and see "their sovereign," leastways, "his Ex- 
cellency." It was discovered that if these friends of Church 
and State were obliged to remain at home to vote for Colonel 
Taylor out of their residential qualification, three, and pos- 
sibly five, constituencies, in which otherwise they would be 
free to vote, might be won by the Liberals. If, on the other 
hand, they left Dublin to its fate, and went to the country 
to vote, Colonel Taylor would inevitably be ousted; The 
thing was very closely examined and nicely calculated. The 
conclusion was obvious. Dublin County must be attacked 
in force. If carried, the victory would be of importance. 
If lost, four or five other seats would thereby be gained. 

"But who supplies the fifteen hundred pounds ?" I in- 
quired. 

"Ask no questions. I think you ought to have confidence 
in me that your principles or your honor will not be compro- 
mised." 

" Not consciously, I am sure ; but if the funds are supplied 
by men of my own principles, what need of reticence ? If 
not, I have need to pause." 

" They are not men of your national politics ; but they are 
as ardent as you in this Disestablishment fight. They feel 
that you, and you alone, can carry Dublin County at this 
moment." 



DISESTABLISHMENT. 423 

" On my own principles ?" 

"Certainly." 

I assented, subject to consultation with some friends. I 
afterward found that five hundred pounds was to be supplied 
by a gentleman of very high position and character who had 
been a member of the late Russell-Gladstone Government, 
and one thousand pounds by a gentleman of whom I had 
never previously heard, but who was at that moment a Glad- 
stone's candidate in Louth County, — Mr. M. O'Reilly Dease. 
I declined the proposition. " To-day," I said, "these gentle- 
men and I are no doubt fighting side by side, but to-morrow 
or next day I may find it to be my duty to differ with them 
or to censure or oppose them or some one of them. Nay, if 
I carried the seat I might have to vote against them in the 
House of Commons. I can't touch the affair. But I'll tell 
you what I'll do ; let some one else be found to stand. I'll 
fling myself heartily into the fight on his behalf, and give to 
him all the influence which you seem to think I could com- 
mand, or the enthusiasm I might excite for myself in Dublin 
County. " 

About three o'clock in the morning on the 17th of Nov- 
ember I was roused out of bed by a violent ringing of the 
hall-door bell. I was the first to rush to the door, where 
I found Mr. Meade, solicitor and conducting agent of Mr. 
Dease, who had, he said, posted by car all the way from the 
county Louth on important and urgent business with me. 
I hurriedly dressed myself, and there, through hours that 
reached toward the dawn, we fought out the whole subject 
once more. My humility, never I suppose too great, was 
barely able to resist the "flattering tale" he urged. The 
gentleman associated with Mr. Dease in this matter, he said, 
was, as I knew, qualified to speak for the whole of the Lib- 
eral party ; and never would this important service be for- 
gotten for me. He, Mr. Meade, was now authorized to say, 
in reference to my suggestion of selecting some one else, 
that for me alone would the monev be forthcoming. If the 



424 NEW IRELAND. 

advantages of this grand stroke were lost to the cause of re- 
ligious equality, I alone would be reproached hereafter. 

There were but two days between us and the nomination. 
I had hardly ever felt so squeezed. Eventually I agreed 
that if some one of two gentlemen whom I undertook to 
name — the Hon. Judge Little or Mr. P. P. MacSwiney — 
did not consent to fight Colonel Taylor, I would do so my- 
self. On the other hand, if either of them undertook to 
stand, the money was to be at their service as freely as it 
would have been at mine. We lost a day vainly trying to 
persuade Judge Little, and Mr. MacSwiney could give us 
no answer till he had consulted his Grace the Archbishop 
of Dublin. As by this time it seemed I was " in for it," I 
sat down and wrote out my election address to the free and 
independent electors, so as to have it ready for publication. 
Mr. MacSwiney 's final reply was to reach us at the Central 
Liberal Committee offices, St. Andrew's Street, before 10 
p.m. I found the room crowded with the elite of the Irish 
Liberal party : men usually among the gravest in sober com- 
mercial or professional circles were now as full of excitement 
as the youngest enthusiast. The coup in the county was 
the great topic. Mr. MacSwiney came in. He was rather 
disposed to stand, but — he hesitated. There was, he 
pleaded, no time for the requisite arrangements or prepara- 
tions. 

" What do you want ? " 

" I have not thought about a proposer or seconder." 

''Here are half a dozen in the room," said Mr. Heron. 

" There is no time to have friends at Kilmainham in the 
morning : and ' the show of hands' is a great deal. " 

"Trust me for that," said Mr. Devitt. 

" Then I have not my election address written, and it 
ought to be in the morning papers." 

"Here is one for you," said I, pulling my own out of my 
pocket and thrusting it into his hand. 

" I'd like to read it over, and submit it to a few " 



DISESTABLISHMENT. 425 

" Oh, nonsense, man ! sign your name there, and let us 
instantly have the printers at work. " 

He was good enough to say it was " just the thing." Any- 
how there was no time to compose another ; arid on the elec- 
tion address so curiously supplied Dublin County election of 
1868 was contested. 

Some of us did not get to bed at all that night, there was 
so much to be done in the few hours at our command. 
Richard Devitt, with a mysterious air, pulled on his top- 
coat and said he must go off to secure a sufficient attend- 
ance of "the nobility and gentry of our noble county" for 
the much-desired "show of hands." But I noted that it 
was to the unaristocratic locality of Ringsend that he drove 
for that purpose. I understood it all next morning when I 
found myself addressing as "Gentlemen electors of this 
great county," a court-house full of the most cut-throat- 
looking rascals it had ever been my lot to behold. Colonel 
Taylor drove up to the hustings at ten in the morning, 
looking decidedly fluttered. He had heard the news ; he 
had just read Mr. MacSwiney's address in the Freeman; 
yet he would fain think it all a practical joke, merely an at- 
tempt to "take a rise out of him." About a score of his 
friends, ladies and gentlemen, in gala attire, came on the 
scene, to witness as they thought the pleasing sight of a 
"walk-over." At first they were utterly unable to compre- 
hend what they saw and heard on entering the court. 
When they gathered the astounding fact that a " Radical " 
candidate was about to be proposed there and then, their in- 
dignation was ungovernable. The Tory magnates waxed 
positively furious with rage. The assemblage of Mr. 
Devitt's "nobility and gentry" in the body of the court 
(the whole lot costing us three pounds ten and sixpence) 
was the most cruel stroke of all. They secured us not only 
the show of hands, — such hands ! — but the shout of voices, 
— oh, what voices ! The fellows seemed to think we ought to 
give them the word to seize Colonel Tavlor and his friends 



426 NEW IRELAND. 

bodily and cast them into the mill-race close by. We made 
great display of "moderating " them, well knowing that the 
most maddening wound we could inflict on our haughty op- 
ponents was the idea of being beholden to us for a hearing 
on that hustings where for generations their class had ruled 
omnipotent. If anything was required to satisfy me of the 
absurdity of open nominations and hustings and " show of 
hands/' it was supplied by that scene. 

Into the few days within which the county had to be polled 
the Liberals put the concentrated work and energy of their 
metropolitan forces. It was only on the day after the nomi- 
nation that the genuine earnestness of the attempt was real- 
ized by the Church party. Then almost a panic prevailed, 
and "not a man can be spared " was the watchword. This 
meant for us that our victory would be elsewhere ; and so it 
was. When on the polling day Colonel Taylor and Mr. 
Hamilton were going in triumphantly, they seemed to wonder 
why we were not crestfallen, or rather why we seemed so jubi- 
lant. They did not know that we had in our pockets tele- 
grams proclaiming that our diversion in Dublin County had 
saved or won some half a dozen seats elsewhere for the cause 
of religious equality. 

In three weeks the battle was virtually over, and Mr. Disraeli 
hauled down his flag. On the 2d of December he gave up 
the seals, and Mr. Gladstone was called to office. On the 
9th the new cabinet was installed ; on the next day Parlia- 
ment opened. By the 29th the ministerial re-elections were 
over, and an adjournment took place to the 16th of February 
following. 

On the 1st of March, 1869, Mr. Gladstone introduced the 
bill to disestablish the Irish Church. On the 18th the de- 
bate on the second reading commenced. It closed on the 
23d, when ministers were found to have the overwhelming 
majority of 118 votes, or 368 to 250. On the 31st of May 
the bill passed the third reading by a vote of 361 to 247. 

For a time there was intense anxiety and apprehension as 



DISESTABLISHMENT. 427 

to the probable action of the House of Lords, in which it was 
well known there was a majority hostile to the measure, if 
only they dared to vote against it. Rumors of conflict be- 
tween the two chambers, of a probable prorogation and 
"creation of peers," and other disquieting stories, abounded. 
In Ireland we felt confident the Lords would throw out the 
bill ; and we looked for serious results. A consciousness of 
the danger involved in such a course, however, brought wis- 
dom to the peers. " July the Twelfth," as the Orangemen's 
ballad has it, they read the bill a third and last time ; and 
all was over. Disestablishment was an accomplished fact. 
Fuit Ilium. 

On the 26th July, 1869, the Irish Church Bill received 
the royal assent. Protests, solemn, earnest, passionate, — de- 
nunciations loud and long and bitter, — burst from the van- 
quished defenders ; but their exclamations were drowned in 
the general rejoicing. The Dissenting churches gave praise 
that the day of subjection was at an end. A Triduum was 
celebrated in the Catholic Pro-Cathedral of Dublin. The 
municipal council of the Irish metropolis, with unusual for- 
mality and impressiveness, voted an address of thanks and 
congratulation to Mr. Gladstone. * Everywhere men realized 
that a great event — almost a revolution — had occurred. But 
few indeed saw at the moment that the indirect, or rather 
reflex, action and influence of that event was to effect the im- 
portant changes which ensued. The overthrow of religious 
ascendency in Ireland was a great work ; but another achieve- 
ment came with it. For the first time in history the English 
Peojjlewere set a thinking — inquiring, reading, investigating, 
and reasoning — upon the general Irish question. Previously 
they had turned away from the worry and heart-break of such 
a perplexing and vexatious study, and gave a proxy to their 

* If I say that it faithfully expressed the enthusiastic feeling 1 of the 
Irish people at the time, I may perhaps be guilty of undue partiality, 
inasmuch as the framing of its terms was entirely committed to me, 
and my draft was adopted by acclamation. 



428 NEW IRELAND. 

Government to think for them and act for them in dealing 
with Ireland. What the Government told them, they ac- 
cepted uninquiringly ; what the Government asked of them, 
they gave with alacrity. They thought it hard that they 
should always have to be doing something for Ireland, and 
always needing to punish or repress her ; but " the Govern- 
ment knew what was best. " The Disestablishment campaign, 
however, filled England with genuine interest in Irish his- 
tory ; and Englishmen — that is, the bulk of the people — 
awoke to the idea that the Irish were not, perhaps, after all 
a wholly intractable and perverse race, nor wholly accounta- 
ble for the failings and shortcomings they displayed. In 
short, the Newspaper and the School had been doing their 
work east as well as west of St. George's Sea ; and side by 
side with the New Ireland a New England also had arisen ! 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

LONGFOED. 

The Church was disestablished. England had "broken 
with Irish Protestantism." In the course of the great cam- 
paign we had heard what Irish Protestants in this event 
would do ; and now all eyes were turned upon them. They 
had made a brave but unavailing fight, and if they now gave 
way to the language of mortification and resentment, they 
had, from their own point of view, many reasons for such 
feelings. Some of the Church Conservative journals were 
very bitter. The pacification of Ireland, the banishment of 
disaffection, had been largely relied upon as an object and 
prophesied as a result of Disestablishment ; and now the 
fondest hope of the exasperated Church party seemed to be 
that the ministerial arguments and expectations in this re- 
spect might be utterly falsified. Every symptom of disorder 
or disturbance was hailed with delight. Anything like a re- 
vival of Fenianism would have been a godsend. As it was, 
every ebullition of disaffection or Nationalism that appeared 
was magnified and made the most of. The Fenians, to their 
amazement, found themselves referred to as "fine manly fel- 
lows," " more honest any day than that caitiff Gladstone." 
The movement in favor of amnesty to the political prison- 
ers, which sprung up about this time, was the chief consola- 
tion forthcoming. " Behold ! " cried the Express and Mail, 
"you thought to tranquilize Ireland by sacrificing our 
Church ; see how you have failed ! " Every denunciation 
hurled by amnesty speakers at the Government was gleefully 
reproduced. Every threatening letter posted on a bailiff's 

429 



430 NEW IRELAND. 

door was paraded. In fact, it seemed as if there was not a 
blackthorn flourished nor a hen-roost robbed in all the landi 
that some Tory paper did not quote the awful fact as one oii 
the "fruits of Disestablishment.'' 

Amidst all this unreason and absurdity of irritation, how- 
ever, a serious growth of thought was silently working its 
way in the minds of many Irish Protestants. The recent 
debates and arguments on the status and rights of the Irish 
Church had cast men back a good deal on the Union period 
wherein those rights were laid down under covenant. Neces- 
sarily the debates in the Irish Parliament were read up. 
The speeches of Grattan and Plunket and Saurin and Cur- 
ran were constantly referred to. Irish Protestants felt a glow 
of pride as the reflection came that these men were their co- 
religionists. "While the Church newspapers were noisily 
railing at Gladstone, and threatening England with an Ire- 
land less satisfied than ever, a serious purpose was forming 
in the minds of men who contemplated the situation from a 
higher level than that of a mere party platform. It may be 
doubted that there ever was a time since 1800 when Irish 
Protestants as a body believed that Irish affairs could be 
better understood and cared for in a London legislature than 
in an Irish parliament. Concern for their rights, privileges, 
and possessions as a minority in the midst of a dangerous 
Catholic majority was the real reason why they supported 
the Union system. In that system, absorbed into the triple 
kingdom as a whole, they were a majority ; endowed with 
the strength, the status, the rights of a majority. The worst 
blunders or shortcomings of London legislation were bet- 
ter for them, and more acceptable, than the hazards to 
their religion and property involved in an Irish parlia- 
ment returned and dominated by "the priests." "Were they 
but reasonably assured against separation from the empire, 
against confiscation of their properties, and against "the 
yoke of Eome," they would be found almost to a man de- 
manding the restoration of the national legislature in Col- 



LONGFORD. 431 

lege Green. Ah, if these Irish millions were not so blindly 
led by their priests in politics, what a movement might now 
be possible ! But no man durst trust himself to a parlia- 
ment elected by fanatics who would vote black white at the 
bidding of their clergy ! 

Such were the thoughts surging through the minds of 
many Irish Protestants in the autumn of 18G9. Suddenly a 
remarkable event challenged their wonder, and enabled them 
to realize the fact that they lived no longer in the Ireland of 
old times. 

In December, 1869, Mr. Gladstone raised to the peerage 
Colonel Fulke Greville-Nugent, of Clonyn, county AVest- 
meath, member of Parliament for Longford County. Col- 
onel Greville-Nugent was much respected as a landlord, and 
as a Liberal in politics had discharged his public duties fairly 
and honorably. For thirty years Longford was a seat which, 
to put it plainly, was in the gift of the Catholic clergy. 
They had in fierce struggle wrested it from the Conservative 
landlords in O'ConnelPs time, and firmly held it ever since. 
They almost invariably fought along with and for the Liberal 
landlords ; but that they could beat these as well as the Tory 
magnates they proved in 1862, when they rejected Colonel 
White (now Lord Annaly), a long-time friend and leading 
Liberal, because he accepted office under Lord Palmerston. 
They entertained the warmest regard for Colonel Greville- 
Nugent, — a Protestant, it may be noted ; and it is said that 
before he accepted the coronet he was privately assured in 
their name that, as a token of their feelings toward him, his 
seat for the county would be passed to any member of his 
family he might name. He selected one of his younger 
sons, Captain Eeginald Greville-Nugent, to succeed him. It 
never once occurred to the new peer or to the Catholic clergy 
that this mode of giving away parliamentary seats, though 
at one time not only possible but customary in Ireland, be- 
longed to an order of things that had silently passed away. 

Shortly before, one of the most remarkable elections on 



432 NEW IRELAND. 

record had taken place in Tipperary. In the summer of 
1869 the agitation for an amnesty to the Fenian prisoners 
had, from a very modest beginning, attained to formidable 
power. Monster meetings, very nearly as vast as those which 
O'Connell addressed a quarter of a century before, now as- 
sembled to hear Mr. Butt plead in earnest tones for the men 
who had loved Ireland "not wisely but too well." When in 
the autumn news came that Government had formally refused 
the appeal for clemency, there was considerable exasperation. 
A touch of their former violence and intolerance seemed to 
return to the Fenians ; for, making ungrateful requital of 
the popular sympathy they had received, they invaded and 
broke up several Tenant- Eight meetings, refusing to allow 
any such demonstrations, seeing that those for the prisoners 
had been fruitless ! At this juncture a vacancy was created 
in the representation of Tipperary by the death of Mr. 
Charles Moore of Mooresfort. There was some perplexity 
and delay in selecting a popular or Liberal candidate ; and 
at length Mr. Denis Caulfield Heron, Q.C., was invited, and 
consented, to stand. Almost at the last moment some one 
suggested that it would be a very effective rejoinder to the 
refusal of amnesty if one of the prisoners were elected to the 
vacant seat ! This was just the sort of proceeding calculated 
to strike the fancy of Tipperary. Although at first the prop- 
osition was treated more as a joke than a reality, it was 
taken tip seriously by the "advanced Nationalists " in the 
county ; and O'Donovan Eossa, as the most defiant of " the 
men in jail," was chosen to be the candidate. The Catholic 
clergy tried to dissuade the people from what they considered 
a fruitless and absurd proceeding ; but to vote against Eossa 
seemed like a stroke at amnesty, and the bulk of the electors 
decided to abstain or else cast a voice for " the prisoner-can- 
didate." Out of twelve thousand on the register only about 
two thousand came to the poll ; but of these a decided ma- 
jority — 1054 to 898— voted for Eossa. Within a few days of 
the Tipperary Eossa election came the Longford vacancy. 



LONGFORD. 433 

There were rumors that in Longford the example of Tipper- 
ary would be followed ; and as a matter of fact it was for a 
moment contemplated by the friends of the prisoners to put 
forward Thomas Clarke Luby as candidate. Men supposed 
to be especially acquainted with popular feeling in Longford 
were consulted, and they emphatically declared that, while 
sympathy for amnesty was strong, anything like a Fenian 
demonstration would be entirely opposed to the general sen- 
timent. It would be violently resisted by the Catholic clergy, 
and be regretted or condemned by non-Fenian Nationalists. 
To a young gentleman of Longford town, Mr. James Behan 
Murtagh, a member of an extensive and wealthy manufac- 
turing firm in the west of Ireland, this decision, and all the 
important results that followed upon it, were most largely 
due. He was widely popular in the county. Whether as a 
member of the county cricket club, bat in hand, or at a 
hurling-match with the peasantry, or twirling a blackthorn 
in a "little misunderstanding" at fair or market, he was 
equally at home. He took strong ground against any course 
that would inevitably challenge a conflict with the clergy, 
but was decidedly for unfurling the National flag. Why 
not, he asked, give up this idea of running a Fenian pris- 
oner, and put forward a National candidate around whom all 
might rally in the name of Ireland ? Why not start John 
Martin ? The esteem in which he was generally held, his 
pure and unsullied character, his sufferings and sacrifices, 
marked him out as a man by whose side patriotic Irishmen, 
priests and laymen, would readily stand. The fact of Mr. 
Martin's absence in America at the moment, Mr. Murtagh 
pointed out, would but make the compliment to him more 
striking and the political event more significant. 

The suggestion was accepted. The idea of proposing a 
Fenian prisoner was relinquished. The men of Longford 
undertook to propose Mr. Martin, — the extreme party not 
only acquiescing but promising to work for him as heartily 
as for a man of their own. The proceedings had reached 
19 



434 NEW IRELAND. 

this stage before I was made aware of them. One morning 
in the first week of December, 1869, I received a hurried 
dispatch from J. B. Murtagh : "John Martin is to be our 
man. We announce you, as his most trusted friend, to ap- 
pear on his behalf. Help us all you can. Come down at 
once." Next post came a letter to say they were about to 
wait upon the Catholic clergy, whose best wishes they were 
sanguine of securing. Their astonishment was great on 
learning that these reverend gentlemen had some idea of 
putting forward young Mr. Greville-Nugent. The fact that 
they were virtually pledged to him — had promised him the 
seat — did not come out for a few days subsequently. Here 
arose a singular complication, a conflict that was eventually 
carried to the bitterest extremes. It is very likely that had 
the clergy thought any considerable section of the laity 
desired the return of John Martin they would have hesitated 
— some of them would — before they involved themselves in 
the complimentary bestowal of the seat on Mr. Nugent. It 
is more than probable that had the National party known at 
first how far the clergy were really committed to Mr. Nugent 
they would have " thought three times " before they raised a 
contest, incensed as they might feel at such a proceeding. 
"Which side was now to give way ? " Oh," said the Nation- 
alists, "on the public announcement of John Martin's can- 
didature the opinion of the country will so unmistakably 
manifest itself that the monstrous idea of pitting an un- 
known youth against him will be abandoned." " Oh," said 
the priests, "we are the depositaries of power. The seat is 
in our hands. The moment we put forward our man, the 
hopelessness of opposing him will be so patent that the 
others will retire." 

I saw what was likely to arise out of this difficulty, and I 
made great exertions to compose it. Not that I could be for 
a moment indifferent between the two candidates ; but I 
hoped that by temperately putting before the clergy the 
serious issues involved, they would either withdraw Mr. 






LONGFORD. 435 



Nugent, or, in a friendly spirit, let the people poll for John 
Martin if so minded. * Unfortunately, they took a high and 
haughty tone. For sufficient reasons they had selected Mr. 
Nugent, and they would put down any attempt to thwart 
their action. This Martin candidature, they said, was 
"Fenianism," and they would crush it under foot. The 
priests of Longford would show their power. 

"But even suppose you vote for your man, and support 
him fairly, you surely do not mean that we who love and 
revere John Martin, and wish to see this honor conferred on 
him, are not free to push his candidature ?" 

" We will let you see that," said the clergy. 

Here in the face of the empire was an issue raised the im- 
portance of which to Ireland was serious. Here was the 
critical moment to verify or refute the story that Irish 
Catholics would blindly vote at the priests' dictation. No 
one raised any question as to the public and personal merits 
of the two candidates. The idea of weighing young Mr. 
Greville-Nugent against John Martin was too absurd, and it 
was not attempted on either side. The whole case was nar- 
rowed to the one point, — accepting Mr. Greville-Nugent 
because the priests had so determined it, rejecting John 
Martin at the bidding of the Longford clergy. 

"Fight, fight ! " I cried, when the answer of haughty de- 
fiance was reported to me. " It will be a war as cruel as one 
between father and son, brother and brother ; but we must 
fight to the last gasp. No retreat, no compromise now. 
These men do not see that surrender on our part would cor- 
roborate one of the most fatal imputations against them and 
against us, namely, that we would 'vote black white' at 
their bidding. If we yield on this point, what Protestant 
Irishman can trust us as fellow-citizens ? If we poll but a 



* This latter course was adopted with the hest results by the Catho- 
lic clergy of Meath in an almost identical difficulty some time after- 
ward. 



436 NEW IRELAND. 

dozen men, we must meet this issue foot to foot. It is not 
now so much a question of returning John Martin, as of as- 
serting an important public principle." 

It was with a good' deal of incredulity that Protestants 
watched the early stages of this Longford business. That it 
would end in the submission of the National party to the 
clergy they quite concluded. That the people would perse- 
vere, that the Catholic laity would, for an Ulster Presby- 
terian candidate, dare to encounter their own clergy on the 
hustings and in the polling-booth, was something too im- 
probable to be seriously dwelt upon. Had not the Catholic 
priests for thirty years been virtually the returning officers 
of Irish Liberal constituencies ? The Catholic gentry had 
no doubt occasionally disputed supremacy with them ; but 
when had the rank and file of the electors themselves ever 
claimed the right to independent action ? Was it not an 
accepted custom in Irish politics that the priests selected the 
candidate, and the people voted at their bidding ? 

One section of the community, beyond all others, fastened 
on Longford an eager gaze, watched every move of this sin- 
gular event with breathless anxiety. It was to be for them the i 
solution of a critical problem, the decision of a momentous 
question. Irish Protestants, whom recent events had so pow- 
erfully affected, had been brought as it were to the very 
threshold of National opinions, looked on amazed and ex- 
pectant. Could it be that their terror of "priestly dicta- 
tion" was about to be dispelled ? Could it be that on a 
purely political issue Catholics would claim and assert, even 
against their own clergy, an independence of action which 
Protestants themselves could not exceed ? If this were so, 
an important political combination was near at hand. 

It was so. Neither the Irish Protestants nor the Longford 
Catholic clergy were fully conscious of the change from the 
Ireland of 1840 to the Ireland of 1870. 

The quarrels of long-time friends are often the most bitter 
of all. This contest between priest and people was fought 






LONGFORD. 437 



with a fierceness which surpassed the struggles between Tory 
landlordism and popular power. The clergy put forth their 
utmost exertions ; and they carried with them the bulk of 
the rural electors. The Catholic Liberals among the gentry 
of course were with Lord Greville to a man. The local Con- 
servatives, perplexed and half incredulous, were neutral, or 
else supported the Martin side. Some of them took this 
latter course to spite the priests and Mr. Gladstone ; many 
did so from sincere and honorable sympathy with the princi- 
ples of tolerance and civil liberty which in their judgment 
underlay the conflict. 

I had been all my life on the side of the Catholic clergy. 
On nearly every public issue in Irish politics till now I had 
fought where they led. I was " Ultramontane " in the most 
extreme application of that term. I honored and admired 
the spirit in which on the whole the Catholic priests had 
exercised the political leadership or influence which historical 
circumstances had placed in their hands. I had resisted, and 
would ever resist, attempts to exclude them from political 
action, or to deny their right to be largely deferred to in 
public affairs. All I hoped from the Longford clergy now 
was that they would, on the question of John Martin or 
Eeginald Greville-Nugent, grant us the right to differ. My 
hope was rudely dispelled. I had the pleasure of hearing 
myself denounced by them as a " Garibaldian," an "Orange- 
man." Of course to none but the most ignorant of the 
population could such stories be told ; and these, poor fel- 
lows, their feelings intensely aroused by the idea of "Dublin 
Orangemen " coming to " attack " their clergy, burst upon 
the Martin meetings in savage fury. " Away with the .Gari- 
baldian crew who want to murder our clergy ! Greville for- 
ever ! " 

The mobs were not all on one side ; nor was all the vio- 
lence of language and action. The county from end to end 
was the scene of disorder and conflict. The people, however, 
seemed to take to it rather familiarly. Work was suspended. 



438 NEW IRELAND. 

Blackthorns and shillelaghs were in request. Sticking-plaster 
was extensively worn. It was hazardous to walk street or 
highway at night, as some patrolling party was sure to be 
encountered, who sang out " Greville ?" or "Martin ?" If 
the wayfarer responded sympathetically, all was well. If 
not, a scientific touch on the cranium laid him recumbent to 
study the pending political issues. My brother informed me 
that he found " committee-rooms " were places where piles of 
<' weapons " were kept for defensive and offensive operations. 
One night he arrived at the village of Ballymahon, to meet 
the " committee " and go over the registry. The " committee " 
had all, evidently, been through the surgery. They dis- 
cussed whisky punch, and told of some " beautiful practice " 
they had seen on the part of a few "Rathcline boys" a day 
or two previously. Suddenly there was a quick and heavy 
tramping on the stairs. The door of the room was burst 
open, and young John Murtagh rushed in. Deigning no 
glance or greeting, he tore off his top-coat, exclaiming, 
"Sticks! Sticks!" 

In an instant every committee-man had sprung to a corner 
of the room where some "neat timber" stood, seized a black- 
thorn, and dashed doAvn-stairs and into the street. For half 
an hour or so it was evident that stiff work was going on. 
Then, as usual, most vexatiously, the police interfered and 
interrupted an exceedingly satisfactory encounter.* 

* At the town of Granard a sort of challenge battle between the Gre- 
villites and Martinites was to come off. The parties assembled, to the 
number of two or three thousand on each side ; but to their great dis- 
comfiture a large force of foot and mounted police occupied the town, 
and so marched and countermarched as to prevent the combatants from 
getting within reach of each other. After the day had been nearly 
" wasted" in this way, the leaders on each side contrived to throw sig- 
nals of parley to one another. They quietly slipped away for a mo- 
ment, and met in a "boreen" close by. 

"This is too bad." 

"Oh, shameful!" 

"No chance with these peeler fellows." 






LONGFORD. 439 

In every Irish election the street ballad-singer is as impor- 
tant a power as the platform orator or the village band, and 
I never knew an Irish election poet that did not invoke the 
"Shan Van Vocht." Literally this phrase means the " Poor 
Old Woman," the words poor and old being applied in a 
tenderly sympathetic sense; but for centuries the "Shan 
Van Vocht " has been a figurative allusion to Ireland, and 
used as a refrain in popular ballads innumerable. Of course 
the streets and roads, the fairs and markets, of Longford 
resounded with ballads, chiefly "Martinite," the bard oc- 
casionally coming in for a touch of martyrdom. One of 
these lays, the production of a local genius, has survived in 
my possession, and I quote a few sample verses : 

" Still on nomination day, 

Says the Shan Van Vocht, 
Faith 'twas better than a play, 

Says the Shan Van Vocht ; 
On Longford Bridge the fight 
When Drumlish in its might 
Was by Martin's put to flight,. 

Says the Shan Van Vocht. 

" It was mighty edifying, 

Says the Shan Van Vocht, 
To see sticks and stones a flying, 

Says the Shan Van Vocht ; 
And religion went astray, 
With Father Felix in the fray, 
Till he had to run away, 

Says the Shan Van Vocht. 

" None. 'Tis disgusting ! " 

"I'll tell you what. There's a lovely spot, the big meadow on the 
Edgeworthstown road, half a mile from us. Let us pretend to sepa- 
rate and go home, but agree to meet there in half an hour ! " 

* ' Beautiful ! Just the thing ! " 

They parted, and tried the maneuver agreed upon ; but it was no 
use ; the police were up to it, and the belligerents had to disperse 
homeward in good earnest, declaring "these peelers" a great nuis- 
ance 1 



440 NEW IRELAND. 

" Oh ! the bould men of Rathcline, 

Says the Shan Van Vocht, 
On that morning they did shine, 

Says the Shan Van Vocht ; 
And the boys from Curraghroe, 
With Clondra men in a row, 
Oh ! 'tis they the stones can throw, 

Says the Shan Van Vocht/' 

The funds required for the Martin candidature were con- 
tributed by public subscriptions, which poured in from all 
parts of Ireland. It was notable that a great portion came 
from the Catholic clergy. They deplored the error of their 
reverend brethren in Longford ; they grieved intensely over 
the conflict we had raised, but quite saw that of two evils 
acquiescence in that error would be much the greater. As 
a body they had ever exercised the popular proxy wisely and 
unselfishly. They would fearlessly brave popular caprice or 
unreason ; but they ambitioned no dominance, they shrank 
from the idea of wielding the clerical power in opposition 
to the legitimate freedom of their flocks. And even as re- 
gards the priests of Longford, it must be remembered for 
them that they fought very much on a point of honor to- 
ward Lord Greville. They were no bigots. The man for 
whom they risked and lost so much in this conflict was 
"Protestant of the Protestants." 

Thursday, the 30th of December, 1869, was nomination- 
day, and on the previous evening, accompanied by Mr. Eyan, 
a Dublin merchant who warmly sympathized in the Long- 
ford contest, I set out from Dublin in order to represent Mr. 
Martin at the proceedings. Telegrams represented Long- 
ford town as " safe for Martin," and the secretary of the 
Amnesty Association in Dublin would insist on sending 
down along with us a brass band, with gorgeous baton and 
big drum complete. It was ten o'clock at night when we 
reached the town, and above the noise of wheel and engine 
we could hear loud shouting as the train pulled up. On 
the platform, with faces full of anxiety and alarm, were my 



LONGFORD. 441 

brother, Mr. Hanly, conducting solicitor for Mr. Martin, and 
a few other friends. "With them, evidently looking out for 
me, were some of the railway officials. 

"What's up?" I cried. 

"Up! The station is surrounded by a Grevillite mob. 
The town is in their possession. Word was wired to the 
enemy from Dublin that you and Mr. Eyan were coming. 
Keep quiet : we must see what course to adopt." 

Yells outside the station, and a thundering of sticks on the 
gate, lent force to the story. 

A moment's reflection showed the best course to be a start 
at once, along with the other passenger arrivals, for the va- 
rious hotels. To remain behind was to increase the danger. 
Mr. Kyan and I jumped into a cab and drove off. A howl- 
ing mob, sticks in hand, surged around, peered into our faces, 
but happily, not recognizing us, let us pass on. We reached 
our hotel in safety. Only then did the thought strike me, — 
what of my brother and Mr. Hanly ? " They will be mur- 
dered if they attempt to leave the station," I cried. "And 
then there are the unfortunate bandsmen whom Nolan, con- 
found him, would insist on sending down." "Oh, be sure 
they will be kept there till morning," rejoined Mr. Eyan. 
" Don't be alarmed." 

Soon we heard shouts approaching, and the noise of a drum. 
After a while the street outside the window presented a 
strange sight. The mob had discovered the band trying to 
escape by a back way from the station, had set upon and 
beaten the musicians, and captured and smashed the instru- 
ments. The disjecta membra were now being triumphally 
borne through the town as trophies. 

While I was gazing with amazement at the scene, my 
brother and friends entered the room, streaming with blood 
from wounds on the head. They had, they said, fortunately 
escaped very well on the whole. The chase after the poor 
bandsmen had diverted attention from them, and they had 
got very nearly to the door before they were recognized. 
19* 



442 NEW IRELAND. 

Next morning the mobs that had bivouacked through the 
night around large fires in the streets prepared for the great 
encounter, — the fight for the court-house, so as to secure the 
"show of hands." At one time it seemed as if a pitched 
battle would be fought outside that building. Stones flew 
through the air ; the crash of windows and the shouts of 
combatants were heard on all sides. The resident magistrates 
and county inspector of police behayed with great coolness 
and temper. Mr. Murtagh, Mr. Hanly, my brother, and my- 
self succeeded in reaching where they stood. I proposed to 
Mr. Talbot, E.M. (now Commissioner of Metropolitan Po- 
lice), that if he would see fair play exercised as to the ad- 
mission of Mr. Martin's friends into the court-house, we 
would call on the Martin party to cease all conflict and retire 
from the town. He cheerfully assented, and we flung our- 
selves between the combatants. I doubt if I ever had such 
close escapes of fatal injury in all my life as during those five 
minutes. We succeeded. A line of military, with fixed 
bayonets, was drawn around the court-house, and detach- 
ments of Grevillites and Martinites admitted in turn. The 
former, however, succeeded in having the best of it. When 
I came forward to speak for Mr. Martin, drawing short sticks 
from under their vests, the Grevillites in the body of the 
court dashed at the hustings with savage cries. It certainly 
was oratory under difficulties. Every period in my speech 
was marked by a crash upon the wooden paneling in front 
of where I stood, and by the sweep of half a dozen bludgeons 
reaching much nearer to my head than was at all calculated 
to increase my composure. 

The clergy conquered at the polls. John Martin's candi- 
dature was defeated by an overwhelming majority. Mr. 
Greville-Nugent was returned by 1478 votes to 411. The 
day was lost, yet won. The object we had striven for was 
virtually attained. Every one realized the importance of the 
struggle. The event was unique in Irish politics. Many 
of us Catholic Nationalists who fought the fight sorrowed 



LONGFORD. 443 

to think that the adversaries with whom this conflict had 
been waged were our own priests, whom we truly loved. 
But we felt that one of the first conditions of our national 
existence was at stake. Common action for our common 
country would be impossible between us and our Protestant 
fellow-citizens if we had surrendered on the issue raised in 
this struggle. A calumny on the great body of the Catholic 
clergy would receive a certain measure of corroboration — a 
distorted view of their action in politics would be strength- 
ened — if we allowed the error of the Longford priests to 
prevail unquestioned in the face of Ireland. "We looked into 
the future, and we felt that time would vindicate our motives 
and prove the wisdom of our policy. Nor had we long to 
wait for striking results. Irish Protestants, hesitating no 
further in distrust or doubt, called aloud to the Catholic 
millions that the time had come for reconciliation and union. 
With a quickness that was marvelous the acerbities of sec- 
tarian antagonisms seemed to vanish. Already from Prot- 
estant lips came the shout of "Home Rule ! " 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

"HOME RULE." 

On - the evening of Thursday, the 19th of May, 1870, a 
strange assemblage was gathered in the great room of the 
Bilton Hotel, Dublin. It was a private meeting of some of 
the leading merchants and professional men of the metrop- 
olis, of various political and religious opinions, to exchange 
views upon the condition of Ireland. Glancing around the 
room, one might ask if the millennium had arrived. Here 
were men of the most opposite parties, men who never before 
met in politics save as irreconcilable foes. The Orangeman 
and the Ultramontane, the stanch Conservative and the 
sturdy Liberal, the Nationalist Eepealer and the Imperial 
Unionist, the Fenian sympathizer and the devoted loyalist, 
sat in free and friendly counsel, discussing a question which 
any time for fifty years previously would have instantly 
sundered such men into a dozen factions arrayed in stormy 
conflict. It was one of those meetings axiomatically held 
to be "impossible" in Ireland, as may be understood by a 
glance over the subjoined list of those who composed it. I 
indicate in most instances the religious and political opinions 
of the gentlemen named, and include a few who were added 
to constitute a " Committee on Resolutions." 

The Et. Hon. Edward Purdon, Lord Mayor, Mansion House, Prot- 
estant Conservative. 

Sir John Barrington, ex-Lord Mayor, D.L., Great Britain Street, 
Protestant Conservative. 

E. H. Kinahan, J.P., ex-High Sheriff, Merrion Square, Tory. 

James V. Mackey, J. P., Beresford Place, Orangeman. 

444 



"HOME RULE." 445 

James W. Mackey, ex-Lord Mayor, J.P., 40 Westmoreland Street, 
Catholic Liberal. 

Sir William Wilde, Merrion Square, F.R.C.S.I., Prot. Cons. 

James Martin, J. P., ex-High Sheriff, North Wall, Cath. lab. 

Cornelius Denehy, T.C., J. P., Mountjoy Square, Cath. Lib. 

W. L. Erson, J. P., Great Charles Street, Or. 

Rev. Joseph E. Galbraith, F.T.C.D., Trinity College, Prot. Cons. 

Isaac Butt, Q.C., Eccles Street, Prot. Nationalist. 

R. B. Butt, Eccles Street, Prot. Nat. 

R. W. Boyle, Banker, College Green, Tory. 

William Campbell, 26 Gardiner's Place, Cath. Lib. 

William Daniel, Mary Street, Cath. Lib. 

William Deaker, P.L.G., Eden Quay, Prot. Cons. 

Alderman Gregg, Sackville Street, Prot. Cons. 

Alderman Hamilton, Frederick Street, Cath. Repealer. 

W. W. Harris, LL.D., ex-High Sheriff of the county Armagh, Eccles 
Street, Prot. Cons. 

Edward M. Hodson, Capel Street, Prot. Cons. 

W. H. Kerr, Capel Street, Prot. Cons. 

Major Knox, D.L., Fitzwilliam Square (proprietor of Irish Times), 
Prot. Cons. 

Graham Lemon, Town Commissioner of Clontarf, Tew Park, Prot. 
Cons. 

J. F. Lombard, J.P., South Hill, Cath. Repealer. 

W. P. J. McDermott, Great Britain Street, Cath. Rep. 

Alexander McNeale, 104 Gardiner Street, Prot. Cons. 

W. Maher, T.C., P.L.G., Clontarf, Cath. Rep. 

Alderman Manning, J. P., Grafton Street, Prot. Cons. 

John Martin, Kilbroney, " Forty-eight " Nationalist, Presbyterian. 

Dr. Maunsell, Parliament Street (editor of Evening Mail), Tory, 

George Moyers, Richmond Street, Or. 

J. Nolan, Sackville Street (Secretary Fenian Amnesty Association), 
Cath. Nat. 

James O'Connor, Abbey Street (late of Irish People), Cath. Fenian. 

Anthony O'Neill, T.C., North Strand, Cath. Rep. 

Thomas Ryan, Great Brunswick Street, Cath. Nat. 

J. H. Sawyer, M.D., Stephen's Green, Prot. Nat. 

James Reilly, P.L.G., Pill Lane, Cath. Nat. 

Alderman Plunket, James's Street, Cath. Nat. Rep. 

The Venerable Archdeacon Goold, D.D., MB., Prot. Tory. 

A. M. Sullivan, Abbey Street, Cath. Nat. Rep. 

Peter Talty, Henry Street, Cath. Rep. 



446 NEW IRELAND. 

William Shaw, M.P., Beaumont, Cork (President of Munster Bank), 
Prot. Lib. 

Captain Edward R. King-Harman, J.P., Creevaghmore, county of 
Longford, Prot. Cons. 

Hon. Lawrence Harman King-Harman, D.L., Newcastle, county of 
Longford, Prot. Cons. 

George Austin, Town Commissioner of Clontarf, Winstonville, 
Prot. Cons. 

Dr. Barry, Rathmines, Cath. Lib. 

George Beatty, Henrietta Street, Prot. Cons. 

Joseph Begg, Capel Street, Cath. Nat. (Treasurer of Fenian Amnesty 
Association). 

Robert Callow, Alderman, Westland Row. 

Edward Carrigan, Bachelor's Walk, Cath. Lib. 

Charles Connolly, Rogerson's Quay, Cath. Lib. 

D. B. Cronin, Nassau Street, Cath. Fenian. 

John Wallis, T.C., Bachelor's Walk, Prot. Cons. 

P. Walsh, Merrion Row, Cath. Nat. 

John Webster, Monkstown, Prot. Cons. 

George F. Shaw, F.T.C.D., Trinity College, Prot. Cons. 

P. J. Smyth, Dalkey, Cath. Nat. Repealer. 

George E. Stephens, Blackball Place, Prot. Cons. 

Henry H. Stewart, M.D., Eccles Street, Prot. Cons. 

L. J. O'Shea, J. P., Margaret Place. Cath. Rep. 

Alfred Webb, Abbey Street, Nat., "Friend." 

"What can we do for Ireland ?" they asked. The Prot- 
estant Conservatives spoke up. Some of them were men of 
large property as country gentlemen ; others were among the 
wealthiest and most influential merchants of the metropolis. 
"It is impossible for us," they said, "to view the events of 
the past five years without feeling it incumbent on us, as we 
value the welfare of our country and regard the safety and 
security of all we possess, to make some step toward a recon- 
ciliation or agreement with the National sentiment. In that 
sentiment, as we understand it, there is much we can never 
assent to. Some of the designs associated with it shall ever 
encounter our resistance. But we have never concealed from 
ourselves, and indeed have never denied, that in the main 
the aspiration for national autonomy is one which has sound 



"HOME RULE." 447 

reason and justice, as well as historical right, behind it. We 
wish to be frank and clear : Ave will have no part in disloyal 
plans ; we will have no separation from England. But we 
feel that the scheme of one parliament for all purposes, im- 
perial and local, has been a failure ; that the attempt to force 
consolidation on the Irish people, to destroy their national 
individuality, has been simply disastrous. However attract- 
ive in theory for imperial statesmen, that project has utterly 
broken down in fact and reality. It has cost us perpetual 
insecurity, recurrent insurrection. It may suit English 
politicians to cling to the experiment still, and pursue it 
through another fifty years, always ' just going to succeed 
this time ; ' but for us Irish Protestants, whose lot is cast in 
this country, and whose all in the world is within these seas, 
it is time to think whether we cannot take into our own hands 
the solution of this problem. We want peace, we want 
security, we want loyalty to the throne, we want connection 
with England; but we will no longer have cur domestic 
affairs committed to a London parliament. The question 
is whether we can agree upon an arrangement that would 
harmonize those national aspirations in which we largely 
participate with that imperial connection which we desire 
to retain." 

Such was the tenor and substance of a discussion or con- 
versation which extended upward of an hour. The prob- 
ability of certain taunts being leveled at them was dis- 
coursed upon. "It will be said we are uttering these senti- 
ments now out of spite against England for disestablishing 
our Church " (which was quite true of some of them). " As 
to that, we freely say two considerations have hitherto ruled 
us. First, to the covenant with England in reference to 
our Church we certainly were faithful. Some of us regret- 
ted that bargain, and boldly avow, now that England has 
violated it, that we feel more free as Irishmen, and shall be 
none the worse as Protestants. Secondly, we did entertain, 
no doubt, an apprehension as to how Roman Catholics, who 



448 NEW IRELAND. 

are numerically the bulk of this nation, might exercise their 
political power under the pressure of ecclesiastical authority. 
As to the first consideration, the Act of Union is now dis- 
solved ; the covenant has been torn up. As to the second, 
reading the signs of the times, we believe we may fearlessly 
dismiss the suspicions and apprehensions that have hitherto 
caused us to mistrust our Koman Catholic countrymen." 

Sitting silently observant of this remarkable scene was a 
man who perhaps more than any other living Irishman held 
in his hands the political destinies of the country at that mo- 
ment. Isaac Butt was born at Glenfin, county Donegal, in 
1815, being the son of the Protestant rector of that place. 
He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin, where he rap- 
idly rose to distinction. He had barely passed his majority 
when he was elected to the professorship of political economy 
in the University of Dublin. He was called to the bar in 
November, 1838, and made a Queen's Counsel in 1844, one 
of the few Irish advocates who wore "silk" at the age of 
twenty-nine. From his earliest college days he was a politi- 
cian, and thirty years ago was the rising hope of the Irish 
Protestant Conservative party. He was their youthful cham- 
pion, selected in 1844 to do battle against O'Connell himself 
in a great four-day debate on Eepeal in the Dublin Corpora- 
tion. All Tory as young Butt was, he had a thoroughly 
Irish heart, and an intense love of the principles of liberty. 
In the debate with O'Connell, it is remarkable to note that 
he confined himself almost entirely to an argument that the 
Union experiment had not been fully tried. At the close of 
the encounter his great antagonist, after paying a high 
tribute to his genius, prophesied that Isaac Butt would one 
day be found "in the- ranks of the Irish people." Early in 
1852 he was invited by the English Conservatives to stand 
for Harwich, which borough he represented up to the dis- 
solution in the summer of that year, when he was, as we 
have noted elsewhere, returned for Youghal. At the bar he 
attained to a high position. He took a leading part in all 



"HOME RULE." 449 

the great trials, civil and political, from 1844 to the State 
prosecutions just concluded. He for a time gave himself 
up almost exclusively to a parliamentary career. In 1804, 
however, he was called from London to Ireland to conduct 
one of the most important mercantile causes of the period. 
At its close, instead of returning to parliamentary pursuits, 
he ceased to attend the House of Commons, and devoted 
himself more closely than ever to professional labors. In 
1865 he stood facile princeps in the front rank of Irish ad- 
vocates. The Fenian prisoners, beset by many and serious 
difficulties as to their defense, turned to him as one whose 
name alone was a tower of strength. Not in vain did they 
appeal to his chivalrous generosity, his love of constitutional 
liberty, his sympathy with those struggling against the 
severities of power. He flung himself with ardor to their 
side ; and once his feelings were aroused and his sympathies 
enlisted in their fate, he never gave them up. For the 
greater part of four years, sacrificing to a considerable ex- 
tent a splendid practice in more lucrative engagements, he 
buried himself, so to speak, in the prolonged and desperate 
effort of their defense. No wonder that in 1868 he had 
earned their gratitude and won their confidence. Four years 
of such sad work meanwhile wrought powerfully with his 
sympathetic nature. In 1869 he accepted the position of 
President of the Amnesty Association, and soon became the 
one great figure in Irish popular politics. 

Immediately on the fall of the Irish Church he saw what 
was coming in Ireland. He knew the feelings — the fears, 
the hopes, the questionings — that surged in the breasts of 
his fellow-Protestants. He determined to use the great 
power which now rested with him in an endeavor to close 
forever the era of revolt and bloodshed, to unite in a common 
work of patriotism Irishmen long divided by class and creed 
distinctions, and to establish between Ireland and England a 
union of friendship and justice which might defy the shocks 
of time. 



450 NEW IRELAND. 

At this Bilton Hotel conference he listened long to the ut- 
terances of his fellow- Protestants, many of them the famil- 
iar associates of his college days. He marked their fears 
about disloyalty, their apprehensions that the Fenians and 
the Romanists would be content with nothing less than separ- 
ation. He rose to his feet and spoke with great earnestness. 
"It is we — it is our inaction, our desertion of the people and 
the country, tha abdication of our position and duties — that 
have cast these men into the eddies and whirlpools of rebel- 
lion," he said. " If you are but ready to lead them by con- 
stitutional courses to their legitimate national rights, they 
are ready to follow you. Trust me, we have all grievously 
wronged the Irish Catholics, priests and laymen. As for the 
men whom misgovernment has driven into revolt, I say for 
them that if they cannot aid you they will not thwart your 
experiment. Arise ! Be bold ! Have faith ; have confi- 
dence, and you will save Ireland; not Ireland alone, but 
England also ! " 

He concluded by proposing 

" That it is the opinion of this meeting that the true remedy for the 
evils of Ireland is the establishment of an Irish parliament with full 
control over our domestic affairs." 

The chairman put the resolution to the meeting. "As 
many as are of opinion that this resolution do pass say, 
' Ay.'" A shout of "Ay" rang through the room. " The 
contrary will say, c No.' " Not a dissentient voice was heard. 
Then every one, greatly astonished, burst into a cheer ; the 
first heard that evening, so grave and earnest and almost 
solemn had been the tone of the deliberations. 

This was the birth of the Irish Home Rule movement. 

A "Committee on Resolutions," comprising all the par- 
ticipators in the private conference, was charged with the 
difficult and delicate task of formulating the national demand 
which they proposed to recommend to the country. They 
carefully disclaimed for themselves any representative char- 



"HOME RULE." 451 

acter, or any right to speak or act in the name of Ireland. 
They proposed merely to ascertain what support such a 
scheme as they meditated might command, with the view of 
eventually submitting it to some formal assembly competent 
to speak with the national authority. In due time the com- 
mittee reported the following as the fundamental resolutions 
of an organization to be called " The Home Government 
Association of Ireland." 

" I. — This association is formed for the purpose of obtaining for Ire- 
land the right of self -government by means of a national parliament. 

" II. — It is hereby declared, as the essential principle of this asso- 
ciation, that the objects, and the only objects, contemplated by its 
organization are — 

" To obtain for our country the right and privilege of managing our 
own affairs, by a parliament assembled in Ireland, composed of 
her Majesty the sovereign, and her successors, and the Lords and 
Commons of Ireland ; 
" To secure for that parliament, under a federal arrangement, the 
right of legislating for and regulating all matters relating to the 
internal affairs of Ireland, and control over Irish resources and 
revenues, subject to the obligation of contributing our just pro- 
portion of the imperial expenditures ; 
" To leave to an imperial parliament the power of dealing with all 
questions affecting the imperial crown and government, legisla- 
tion regarding the colonies and other dependencies of the crown, 
the relations of the United Empire with foreign states, and all 
matters appertaining to the defense and the stability of the em- 
pire at large. 
" To attain such an adjustment of the relations between the two 
countries, without any interference with the prerogatives of the 
crown, or any disturbance of the principles of the constitution. 
"III. — The association invites the co-operation of all Irishmen who 
are willing to join in seeking for Ireland a federal arrangement based 
upon these general principles. 

" IV. — The association will endeavor to forward the object it has in 
view, by using all legitimate means of influencing public sentiment, 
both in Ireland and Great Britain, by taking all opportunities of in- 
structing and informing public opinion, and by seeking to unite Irish- 
men of all creeds and classes in one national movement, in support of 
the great national object hereby contemplated. 



452 NEW IRELAND. 

" V. — It is declared to be an essential principle of the association that, 
while every member is understood by joining it to concur in its general 
object and plan of action, no person so joining is committed to any po- 
litical opinion, except the advisability of seeking for Ireland the 
amount of self-government contemplated in the objects of the associ- 
ation." 

This was not " Repeal/' as O'Connell's scheme was loosely 
and imperfectly called. O'Connell entirely avoided defining 
his plan of arrangement. By " Repeal" he caused the peo- 
ple to understand the one simple fact that the illegal over- 
throw of the Irish constitution in 1800 was to be undone. 
But in 1844 he knew right well that reverting to the state of 
things previous to 1800 would in many respects he impossi- 
ble, and in others mischievous. He knew that many in- 
ternational arrangements, compromises, checks, and coun- 
terpoises would have to be agreed upon ; but he never 
attempted to outline or define any plan. This vagueness, 
while on the one hand it saved him from attack on details as 
well as principles, on the other gave room for Protestant 
alarm and apprehension. Repeal plus all the changes of the 
past forty years was very nearly separation ; and O'Connell 
would not show his hand as to future details or guarantees. 

This new plan of the Home Government association took 
the other course. It attempted to suggest or indicate the 
nature of the arrangements under which the unity of the 
empire might be secured equally with Irish management of 
Irish affairs. In this sense it was at once less and more than 
* Repeal." The pre-Union system had two serious faults, 
— one hazardous to the English connection, the other peril- 
ous to Irish liberties. The voting of Irish supplies, not 
merely for domestic but general and imperial purposes, the 
voting of men, money, or material for the navy and the 
army, lay altogether with the Irish parliament. This was a 
state of things too uncertain and dangerous for British min- 
isters to be really content with. It was a perpetual induce- 
ment, in the interests of imperial unity and safety, to a 



"HOME RULE." 453 

consolidation of the parliaments. On the other hand, the 
Irish parliament had no responsible ministry. Its vote was 
as powerless to remove a cabinet as to stir the Hill of Howth. 
The result was a standing menace to the freedom of the as- 
sembly. The ministry might openly engage (as it often did) 
in the most violent and corrupt attempts to purchase a ma- 
jority in the chamber, and yet the chamber itself could by 
no vote of "want of confidence " remove that ministry from 
power. 

The great feature in the Home Government Association 
scheme was, on the one hand, it offered to surrender the 
Irish control over imperial supplies, and, on the other, 
claimed a responsible Irish administration. All that related 
to imperial concerns was left to the imperial legislature ; all 
that related to domestic Irish affairs was claimed for an 
Irish parliament. 

But what are " local " and what are "imperial " affairs ? 
asked hostile critics, anxious to draw Mr. Butt into a battle 
on details. That may or may not be a difficult point of ar- 
rangement between the countries when they come to adjust 
such matters, was his reply : such points have been easily 
settled elsewhere, and they will not defy the ability of Eng- 
lish and Irish statesmen when the time arrives for consider- 
ing them here. 

Conscious of the difficulties surrounding them, the leaders 
of the new society pushed their way very diffidently and 
tentatively at first. They were assailed from the opposite 
poles of politics, — by the imperialist Conservatives and the 
Catholic Liberals. The Catholic bishops and clergy, full of 
gratitude to Mr. Gladstone for the great work he had just 
accomplished, could hardly be expected to regard with pa- • 
tience a proceeding which looked so like a mere Tory trick. 
It was an old Orange plot, they thought, to spite the Liberal 
Government that had settled the Church question and was 
about to settle the Education question. The Tory imperial- 
ists, on the other hand, were filled with alarm. This new 



454 NEW IRELAND. 

association was, they declared, a device of the Jesuits to lay- 
hold of Protestants at such a moment and apprentice them 
to sedition and disloyalty. " You are in the toils of Orange- 
ism," cried the Whig Evening Post to the Catholics. "You 
are the dupes of Cardinal Cullen," cried the Conservative 
Daily Express to the Protestants. 

The new movement made steady progress. The mistrust 
and hostility of the Catholic Liberals, especially of the 
Catholic clergy, proved to be its most serious hindrance. 
The popular sentiment, however, went at once and strongly 
with the association; and four "bye-elections," which oc- 
curred in 1871, gave striking proof of the depth and force 
of the national feeling. These were the return of Mr. John 
Martin for Meath, Mr. Mitchell- Henry for Galway, Mr. P. 
J. Smyth, for Westmeath, and, crowning all, Mr. Butt for 
Limerick. Mr. Martin's opponent was the Hon. Mr. Plun. 
kett, brother of Lord Fingall, a Catholic nobleman warmly 
esteemed by the whole Catholic community. The Catholic 
clergy had espoused Mr. Plunkett's candidature before Mr. 
Martin's had been suggested. On the appearance of the 
latter they at once announced that they would do their best 
fairly for the man to whom they were pledged, but would 
have no quarrel with their people if the latter honestly and 
freely preferred John Martin. Few persons believed Mr. 
Martin had any chance of success ; least of all did Mr. 
Plunkett. On the hustings the former gentleman declared 
he had no ambition to enter Parliament, and would rather 
Mr. Plunkett went in unopposed, "if only he would de- 
clare for Home Rule ; " in which case he, Mr. Martin, 
would retire on the instant. Mr. Plunkett laughed in a 
good-natured and kindly way at this offer of a seat which he 
regarded as already his own. Great, however, was his dis- 
may to find at the close of the booths that the derided Home 
Euler polled two votes to his one, and that John Martin was 
Knight of the Shire for "Royal Meath." 

Scarcely less encouraging to the Home Rulers was the 






"HOME RULE." 455 

election in Galway, considering the man whose adhesion it 
signalized. Mr. Mitchell-Henry was son of Mr. Alexander 
Henry, one of the merchant-princes of Manchester, for many 
years member of Parliament for South Lancashire. Mr. 
Henry, senior, was an Irishmen : the family have occupied 
an honorable position in Ulster for two centuries. Some of 
them settled in America : Patrick Henry of the Eevolution, 
and Alexander Henry, the well-known philanthropist of 
Philadelphia, were relatives of the late member for South 
Lancashire. Mr. Mitchell-Henry, who was born in 1826, 
early devoted himself to medical science, and for fifteen 
years was consulting surgeon to the Middlesex Hospital. On 
the death of his father in 1862 he inherited a considerable 
fortune, and retired from professional practice. He was 
greatly struck with the beauty of the scenery at Kylemore, 
in Galway. He purchased the entire district, and built there 
Kylemore Castle, one of the wonders of the West, — a fairy- 
palace in the Connemara Highlands. He became not only 
attached to the place but to the people. Protestant as he 
was, in the midst of a strongly Celtic and Catholic peasantry, 
he found that his religious opinions raised no barrier be- 
tween him and the confidence and affections of this simple 
and kindly race. Ere long his sympathy with the people, 
his uprightness, his liberality, were the theme of praise in 
even the humblest homes from Clifden to Lough Corrib. He 
was known to be a man of considerable intellectual ability, 
great independence, and firmness of character. When he 
issued his address for Galway County in February, 1871, as 
an advocate for domestic legislation, and was returned with- 
out a contest, the incident created quite a stir in the world of 
Irish politics. 

In the following June a vacancy occurred in the represen- 
tation of Westmeath County, and Mr. P. J. Smyth, a leading 
member of the Home Government Association, offered him- 
self as a candidate. Mr. Smyth was one of the Confederate 
fugitives in 1848. He escaped to America, as mentioned in 



456 NEW IRELAND. 

a previous chapter, and in that country devoted himself for 
some time to journalism. In 1854 some ardent friends of 
the Irish State prisoners (Smith O'Brien, Meagher, Mitchel, 
etc., then undergoing their sentences in Australia), struck by 
the successful escape of MacManus, formed a plan and found 
the requisite funds for effecting the rescue of the others, one 
by one. Mr. Smyth was selected as the agent to carry out 
this daring purpose ; and the result amply justified the con- 
fidence thus placed in his courage and devotion. He pro- 
ceeded to Australia, where he arranged and personally con- 
ducted the escapes of Meagher and Mitchel. He was on his 
way thither a third time, I believe, to bring off O'Brien, 
when a pardon reached the latter gentleman. In 1856 Mr. 
Smyth returned to Ireland and soon after joined the Irish 
press, later on entering the legal profession as barrister. 
He was a man of marked ability, a polished orator, and 
an able writer ; and his uncontested return on this occasion 
for Westmeath, following as it did upon the Meath and 
Galway elections, gave the new association a notable tri- 
umph. 

In September came the crowning victory of the year, in 
the unopposed return for Limerick of Mr. Butt, already the 
recognized leader of the movement. 

As if irritated by these events, Irish Liberalism toward 
the end of 1871 seemed to pull itself together for a serious 
resistance to the Home Eule " craze," as it was called. In 
the opening part of 1872 we found ourselves hard pressed in 
many places. We could note by many signs that the expec- 
tation of a Catholic University scheme at the hands of Mr. 
Gladstone was having a powerful effect with some of the 
Catholic bishops and clergy. Important organs of public 
opinion known to be influenced by leading members of the 
episcopacy began to draw off from the movement, and to say 
that the demand for Home Rule was no doubt very right 
and just, but it was "inopportune." One thing at a time. 
Until the Catholic Education question had been settled, 



"HOME RULE." 457 

nothing else should be taken in hand. Home Eule ought 
to be " postponed." 

At this the Protestants in the new association started like 
men on whom suddenly flashes the recollection of gloomy- 
warnings. Was not this what had been prophesied to them ? 
Were the Catholics going to betray the cause ? 

The answer came from Kerry and Galway Counties. 

In December, 1871, on the death of the Earl of Kenmare, 
his son, Viscount Castlerosse, then member of Parliament for 
Kerry, succeeded to the peerage and estates. The Kenmare 
family are Catholics. They are resident landlords, — a class 
happily numerous in Kerry, — and have long been esteemed 
as among the best of the good by the people around them. 
For nearly thirty years there had been no contest for the rep- 
resentation of that county. The territorial magnates of the 
two great political parties, Liberal and Conservative, by a 
tacit or express compact peaceably divided the representa- 
tion between them. One of the two county seats went to the 
Liberal-Conservative, Mr. Herbert of Muckross, and was 
transmitted from sire to son. The other was the family seat 
of the Catholic Liberal Earl of Kenmare, long held by the 
next heir to the coronet. It seemed to be quite clearly un- 
derstood that a sort of offensive and defensive alliance existed 
between both parties, to the end that the combined forces of 
Liberal and Conservative landlordism would resist any at- 
tempt of third parties to disturb this arrangement. 

When toward the close of 1871 Lord Castlerosse became 
Earl of Kenmare, his eldest son was quite too young to take 
the seat he vacated as county member ; and accordingly he 
selected, as the family representative, his cousin, Mr. James 
Arthur Dease, a highly respected and influential Catholic 
gentleman resident in Westmeath. Usually this transfer 
would be a matter of course ; but now it was the turn of 
Kerry to show that a New Ireland had come into exist- 
ence. From various parts of the county arose reclamations 
against this mode of disposing of the representation. It was 
20 



458 NEW IRELAND. 

submitted that the people were not to be ignored in this 
fashion. The Ireland of to-day was not the Ireland of thirty- 
years ago. Lord Kenmare they greatly respected; but a 
political trust was not to be treated as a family appanage. 
They would select a candidate for themselves ; and he should 
be one who in the name of Kerry, the county of O'Connell, 
would proclaim the unalterable determination of the Irish 
people to recover their constitutional liberties. 

Sooth to say, these manifestations in Kerry occasioned at 
first uneasiness rather than satisfaction among the Home 
Eule leaders in Dublin, — so adverse did they think the 
chances of any successful movement under existing circum- 
stances in that county, and so damaging would a heavy blow 
at that critical juncture in all likelihood have been. The 
men of Kerry, however, are a sensitive and high-spirited 
people. Their pride was touched; their patriotism was 
roused. They selected as their standard-bearer a young 
Protestant gentleman barely returned from Oxford, and not 
more than a month or two past his majority, — Roland Pon- 
sonby Blennerhassett, of Kells, near Cahirciveen. 

A shout of contemptuous derision burst from the Whig- 
Liberal Catholics all over Ireland. What ! Dream of op- 
posing the nominee of Lord Kenmare in Kerry ! True to 
the spirit of the alliance compact, the Tory and Whig land- 
lords of the county assembled, and in a combined body con- 
stituted themselves an election committee for Mr. Dease. 
At their head stood the Catholic Bishop, the most Eev. Dr. 
Moriarty. 

Undeterred, nay, incited, by all this, the great body of the 
Catholic clergy, and the people almost to a man, espoused 
the cause of "Blennerhassett and Home Rule." The Lib- 
eral press and politicians all over the kingdom, confident 
that victory was in their hands, loudly proclaimed that this 
was to be the great test election between Liberalism and 
Home Rule, centralization and nationality ; and they in- 
vited the empire to watch the result. By the middle of 



"HOME RULE." 459 

January, 1872, the struggle had assumed national signifi- 
cance and importance. The London Daily Telegraph de- 
clared we were "on the eve of a yery critical test." The 
Daily Neivs said, " The contest is already exciting an amount 
of interest in Ireland hardly equaled there since O'Connell 
contested the county of Clare. . . . On the whole, there 
are in Kerry all the materials of a struggle the result of 
which every English statesman must regard as important, if 
not indeed momentous." 

On the 20th of January, 1872, the Home Eule Council 
in Dublin was specially convened to consider urgent appeals 
from Kerry for the personal presence and assistance of some 
of its members. The council decided that the fate of the 
whole movement seemed so largely involved in the issue that 
the entire. energies and resources of the organization must 
be put forth. A deputation consisting of the Rev. Joseph 
A. Galbraith, Fellow of Trinity College, A. M. Sullivan, 
and John Overington Blunden was named to proceed forth- 
with to Kerry. It was "death or glory." They were 
charged to return "bearing their shields, or borne upon 
them." 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE KEEEY ELECTION. 

" Well, Sullivan, this is a serious pull that is before us," 
said the Fellow of Trinity, gravely, as we seated ourselves 
in the Killarney train, on Friday evening, the 26th of 
January, 1872. 

Trinity College has played a great part in the history of 
Ireland. It was founded as an exclusively and, if I may so 
express it, aggressively Protestant institution, some three hun- 
dred years ago. It was the intellectual citadel of Protestant 
ascendency ; and many a time and oft have the Irish Cath- 
olics heard the hard dicta of intolerance shouted from its 
portal. Yet to this day there is scarcely a man of generous 
mind or breadth of view among them who is not proud of 
" Old Trinity ; " proud to mark the high place it holds amidst 
the schools of Europe ; but, above all, to note the illustrious 
men it has sent forth, in Arts, Letters, Science, Politics, to 
lift the name and fame of Ireland. For at least forty or fifty 
years it has been not only strongly conservative but im- 
perialist ; yet the spirits of Grattan and Flood and Plunket 
haunt the old scenes. Ever and anon Trinity contributes 
to the struggles of Irish nationality some of its ablest and 
most gifted champions, — men who are the links that bind 
creeds and classes in community of public feeling and action 
and prevent Irish politics from becoming a mere war of race 
and religion. Two such men were my companions on this 
journey. One of them was especially notable. 

The Rev. Joseph A. Galbraith, Fellow of Trinity College, 
Dublin, filled from the first hour a foremost place in the new 

460 



TEE KERRY ELECTION. 4G1 

movement of constitutional nationality. His scientific at- 
tainments made his name familiar beyond the limits of our 
realm ; and among the Protestant Conservatives whom the 
events of recent years had brought into association with pop- 
ular politics, there was scarcely one whose adhesion had a 
greater effect on social and public opinion in Ireland. How 
much he was esteemed and trusted by his co-religionists 
was shown by the fact of his being elected year by year to 
one of the highest honorary positions in connection with the 
Church Synod and the " Governing body " of the Protestant 
Church in Ireland. He was one of the gentlemen present 
at the Bilton Hotel Conference on the 19th of May, 1870, 
and, although by nature intensely averse to the bustle and 
turmoil of public life, he faced boldly the labors incidental 
to a prominent position in the new political organization. 
Being requested to proceed along with Mr. Blunden and 
myself, as representatives of the association in the Kerry 
campaign, he cheerfully complied, and we now were en 
route for the scene of action. 

We slept at Killarney that night, and proceeded next 
morning to Tralee, where a great open-air demonstration was 
to be held in favor of the National candidate. We found the 
county town in a state of passion, denouncing the conduct 
of the borough member, who had "gone over to the enemy." 
Alas ! it was The O'Donoghue, the popular idol of yesterday, 
the eloquent advocate of Irish independence ! It was as if 
Hofer had suddenly appeared in Botzen, dressed in Bavarian 
livery, leading the Munich riflemen. This was a heavy blow, 
a sore trial ; but, save in the pain of feeling, the anguish al- 
most, which it occasioned the people, who had so devotedly 
loved the now converted leader, it was without effect. Twenty- 
five years ago such a man would have carried his county or 
borough with him, as a Highland chief would carry his 
clan from one camp to the other. Now the secession of 
The O'Donoghue was worth scarcely a dozen votes to the 
Earl of Kenmare. 



462 NEW IRELAND. 

Mr. Blennerhassett, accompanied by an immense concourse, 
with bands and banners, awaited our arrival at the station. 
It was with much difficulty we could save Mr. Galbraith 
from being carried off bodily and "chaired " on their shoul- 
ders by the enthusiastic Popish Kerry men. It surely was a 
strange sight, this Kerry election fight of 1872. Here was 
one of the most Catholic counties in Ireland rallying, priests 
and people, on the side of this young Protestant, Koland 
Blennerhassett ; opposing a Catholic candidate, the relative 
of a Catholic nobleman whom they one and all personally 
esteemed ! With nearly everything to deter them, they 
pressed on. Leagued against them was the entire landlord 
power of the county, Whig and Tory, Catholic and Prot- 
estant, with barely a few exceptions. Their bishop, Dr. 
Moriarty, and several of their parish priests were violently 
opposing them. The O'Connell family went also with Lord 
Kenmare. On the other side there was, however, the great 
fact that the majority of the Kerry priests were enthusias- 
tically with the people. The national sentiment all over the 
kingdom was at their back. Most important of all, the lead- 
ing organs of popular opinion in the South of Ireland, the 
Cork Examiner of Mr. John Francis Maguire, M.P., and the 
Cork Daily Herald, scarcely less influential in its circulation, 
were thoroughly on the popular side. Had it been otherwise 
as to the local press, had Mr. Maguire helped us less heartily, 
the Kerry election might not have been won. He was at this 
time the leading journalist and politician of Munster, and had 
for years been a prominent figure among the Irish members 
in the House of Commons. John Francis Maguire was born 
in Cork city in 1815. He was called to the bar in 1843. 
Long previously, however, his natural inclinations and tastes 
led him to literature and journalism. In 1841 he founded 
the Cork Examiner, which in a few years became one of the 
most important and influential journals in Ireland. He was 
an especial favorite and intimate friend of Father Mathew, 
and in the Temperance and Kepeal movements from 1841 to 



THE KERRY ELECTION. 463 

1846 he was an active participator. In 1852 he was returned 
to Parliament for the borough of Dungarvan, which he 
had twice previously mnsuccessfully contested, — once in 1847 
against Kichard Lalor Sheil, and once in 1851 against the 
Hon. Ashley Ponsonby. He remained member for Dungar- 
van from 1852 to 1866, when he was returned for his native 
city, the representation of which he held thenceforth until 
his death in November, 1872. His eloquence, his energy, his 
marked ability brought him early into the front rank of the 
Irish representation. He took an active part in the Tenant 
League movement ; and on the disruption caused by the 
Keogh-Sadleir episode, he was found with Lucas and Moore 
and Duffy vainly endeavoring to repair the ruin that had 
fallen on the tenants' cause. In 1852 he was elected Mayor 
of Cork, and was the author and chief promoter of the Indus- 
trial Exhibition held that year in the city. In the midst of 
a busy and toilsome career, Mr. Maguire found time for some 
contributions to literature. His best-known work, which 
earned him the marked personal friendship of Pio Nono, was 
"Some and its Eulers," first published in 1857 ; "The Irish 
in America " and a " Life of Father Mathew " came next, — 
the latter one of the most interesting pieces of biography 
written in our day. Although an ardent Liberal, and slow 
to lend himself to new political ventures, — he had seen the 
rise and fall of not a few,— Mr. Maguire at an early stage of 
the Home Eule movement gave it a firm and argumentative 
support. No sooner had the Kerry contest assumed the pro- 
portions of a national struggle than he threw himself with 
all the energy of his nature into a fight which he pre- 
sciently foretold would be, as the Daily News said, " impor- 
tant, if not indeed momentous." 

Mr. Galbraith had to return to Dublin in a few days ; but 
even before he left we could form an opinion of the pros- 
pects of the fray. "Tell them all in Dublin," I said, "that 
here I mean to stay to the end. These are a noble people. 
There is victory ahead." 



464 NEW IRELAND. 

I did not praise them too highly, nor estimate too hopefully 
the result before us. I had often seen popular feeling dis- 
played, in election contests, but nothing to equal this. What 
struck me as the strangest part of it all was the popularity 
of Mr. Blennerhassett, or "Mr. Hassett," as he was called. 
He must have been personally almost unknown to the bulk 
of his fellow-countrymen. His father — a landed proprietor 
in the west of Kerry, where the family settled in the reign 
of Elizabeth — had died while he was a child, and he was but 
a youth when sent away to Oxford University. Yet the 
peasantry spoke of him and to him in the language of 
homely affection. The " canvass " was a triumphal progress. 
As we drove along the road the people would quit fields and 
houses, stand by the wayside waving green boughs and shout- 
ing salutations, or else run by the carriage just to press his 
hand. " Ten votes in this town-land for you, Mr. Hassett. 
Home Rule forever ! " " You needn't trouble about our 
parish, sir. Father Michael — God bless him ! — and all of us 
are with you." As we passed through a little village beyond 
Killorglin, the few people of the hamlet who had votes 
rushed around to " give their names," — a proceeding they 
seemed to think necessary. One peasant-woman came for- 
ward with tears in her eyes. "I have no vote that I can 
give you, Mr. Hassett ; but I give you my prayers every day 
that God and the blessed Virgin may be on your side ! " The 
most primitive attempts at festal display met our view in the 
wild parts of the county. Whenever the news reached that 
at no matter what hour of the night or day we were to pass 
the way, signal-men were posted on hill and crag ; and often 
in the dead of night we could hear the shout passing from 
house to house along mountain and valley, — " Home Eule ! 
Home Eule ! " At a place between Dingle and Tralee, miles 
from a second human habitation, a peasant-boy of fourteen, 
lame and using a crutch, stood by the roadside close by his 
father's cabin. From early morning — having heard we were 
to pass either going or returning — he had watched and waited. 



THE KERRY ELECTION. 465 

He had erected what he meant as a "banner." Two tall 
osier rods were fastened in the ground, and from one on the 
top, placed laterally, hung a piece of some white linen gar- 
ment. On this during the previous week he had laboriously 
drawn with ink or blacking sundry national emblems, and in 
large letters "Hurra for Blennerhassett and Home Kule." 
That "Mr. Hassett" would see this, was his sole ambition ; 
but when we pulled up and, gazing at the " banner," praised 
his artistic skill, he looked as if unable to contain himself 
with happiness and pride. 

For a full fortnight it rained as only in Kerry it can rain. 
But the people seemed amphibious, and we of the " deputa- 
tion " * soon acquired the local habit of disregarding tempest 
and flood. Every night, at Oakville — the residence of Mr. 
Sandes, a young cousin of "Mr. Hassett" — a huge turf fire 
was lighted, before which our ulsters, dreadnoughts, rugs, 
and wrappers were hung to dry. Next morning they were 
in requisition once more, and saturated anew in a few hours. 

All seemed going fairly through the county, when one 
evening on reaching Oakville a piece of news to me most 
disquieting awaited us. Our young host was a lover of the 
chase, and proud of his hunters. At the County Club the 
disputes as to horseflesh were mingled with the question of 
Home Kule or Liberalism, Blennerhassett or Dease. That 
day a contention had arisen between Mr. Sandes and a lead- 
ing " Deasite " as to the rival merits of a bay mare belonging 
to one and a chestnut horse owned by the other. " I'll tell 
you what it is," said Mr. Sandes ; "I'll run you a two-mile 
steeple-chase for a hundred guineas, if you like, and I'll call 
my horse Home Eule ; do you call yours Deasite ; each to 
ride his own horse." No true Kerry man could refuse such 
a challenge. I don't know at what figure the stakes were 
eventually fixed, but I do know that all over Kerry men 

* Mr. Florence MacCarthy, J.P., of Glencurra, Cork County, joined 
us soon after Mr. Galbraith's return to Dublin. 
20* 



466 NEW IRELAND. 

took sides and betted as earnestly on this race as if the fate 
of the election hung on it, — which indeed we greatly feared 
was in some degree the case. 

" What have you done ! " we exclaimed, in vexation. 
" Staked on the hazard of a horse-race the result of all our 
toil ! You know what a people the Irish peasantry are ; 
you know how victory or defeat in a matter of this sort will 
impress them ; you know " 

"I know : all so much the better; for I'm going to win 
this race as sure as my name is Tom Sandes." 

And he did win it in right gallant style, — took fence and 
dike without fall or fault, and rode in triumphantly, leaving 
" Deasite " nowhere ! 

This seemed conclusive with the people.. Now it was 
clear we were to head the poll. Had not the "Home Bule" 
horse won the day ? 

Still, some of us, accustomed of old to elections, knew 
that popular feeling did not always mean votes in the booth 
when landlord pressure was severely exercised ; and as the 
nomination-day drew near we found that the most relentless 
coercion was being used on some of the largest properties in 
the county. Nightly councils were held in our central com- 
mittee-room ; reports from the various districts were weighed 
and discussed, baronial lists eagerly scanned and compared. 
That at the last moment the people would have to succumb 
to the bailiff's message was a gloomy thought which hourly 
pressed more heavily on many a mind. To make matters 
worse, Mr. Blennerhassett's health broke down under the 
fatigues of the past four weeks, and we more than feared 
he would be unable to appear at the hustings. He did so 
appear only by an effort. The nomination was a great 
scene. The territorial lords of the county assembled in proud 
array. Much were they angered and astounded to think 
they beheld a day when they should be thus opposed and 
defied on their own ground. Our man made an admirable 
speech, temperate, firm, eloquent, full of lofty patriotism. 



THE KERRY ELECTION. 467 

One of his supporters, however, struck out severely at some 
of the landlord party present, and we could see that the 
attack infuriated the whole body. They left the court- 
house and quitted the town, each for his own locality, 
swearing that now indeed should we feel their power. I 
knew what was at hand, — that during the next forty- 
eight hours it would be "the rush within the ropes" with 
both parties. The nomination was on Tuesday the 6th of 
February. Next day, for many reasons, and more particu- 
larly on account of Mr. Blennerhassett's absence through 
illness, I decided to remain at headquarters in Tralee and 
take supreme control into my own hands. Soon came pour- 
ing in telegrams addressed to Mr. Blennerhassett in the lan- 
guage of excitement and alarm : "All our forces are over- 
thrown here. The landlord and the bailiffs are out like 
raging lions." " Desperate work here. Landlords neutral 
up to this, now personally canvassing against us." I not 
only opened the first of these messages, but opened every 
one of them throughout the day. I stuffed them deliber- 
ately into my pocket, and breathed not a word about them 
to Mr. Blennerhassett or anybody else, beyond replying to 
each of them, " Quite prepared for and expected it. We 
are doing the same on our side. Take to the field every 
man of you, and work for your lives day and night till 
Friday." I well knew how fatal the effect of panic or dis- 
heartenment might be at such a moment, and I did not 
spare the telegraph-wires that day in arousing the feelings 
and exciting the confidence and courage of our friends. 

From Galway most opportunely came news that could 
hardly fail to have a critical effect on our side. In that 
county a contest little less important, and much more severe 
in many respects, was being fought by Captain John Philip 
Nolan, Home Euler, against Major Le Poer Trench, son of 
Lord Clancarty, Liberal-Conservative. Very much out of 
personal regard for Lord Clancarty — and for Major Trench 
himself, for whom a kindly feeling was very general in the 



468 NEW IRELAND. 

county, — (but still more " to put down Home Eule "), the 
principal Whig and Tory landlords united in that gallant 
gentleman's behalf, and a struggle painful and violent be- 
yond precedent resulted. The day following our Kerry 
nomination the startling and truly welcome news arrived 
that Captain Nolan had won by the enormous majority of 
2578 to 658, or nearly four to one ! The effect in Kerry was, 
as might be supposed, all-important. " G-alway is ours ! 
Now, Kerry, show what you can do ! " resounded on all 
sides. 

Meantime, troops, horse and foot, were being poured into 
the county. The landlords hired vacant buildings, courts, 
or yards in which to secure their tenants the night before 
the poll. In virtue of their power as magistrates they requi- 
sitioned detachments of foot and laneers for the purpose of 
"escorting" those voters to the booths. The streets of 
Tralee rang with the bugles or echoed to the drums of mili- 
tary arriving by train or departing for Dingle, Listowel, 
Cahirciveen, Castleisland, etc. All this intensified the pre- 
vailing excitement, and on Wednesday night a horseman 
arrived from one of the remoter districts bringing news that 
filled me with concern. The mountaineers had seen "the 
army " pass, and knew their errand. All over a great part 
of Iverah and Magonihy preparations were going on that 
night to destroy the bridges, cut up the roads, and render 
the return of the escorts to the polling-booths impossible. 
"Oh, for the love of God," I said, "tell him to ride back 
with all his speed ! Tell every friend we are sure of the 
poll, and that our only danger now would be a petition. I 
implore of you all not to let a finger be raised that could 
thus put the victory into our enemies' hands ! " Only with 
the utmost difficulty could I impress this view upon the vol- 
unteer couriers ; and it was with a mind full of uneasiness 
and apprehension that the night before the poll I set out 
for Killarney (our opponents' stronghold), of which district 
I determined to take charge. 






TEE KERRY ELECTION. 469 

It was tough work all that morning of Friday the 9th of 
February in the Killarney booths ; and as the tallies swelled 
against us here (but here only, as we fully calculated), the 
crowds which about noon filled the streets became excited, 
uneasy, and anxious. I was rushed at whenever seen, and 
eagerly questioned. 

"We're bate here, sir ; but how is it beyond ?" 

"All right, boys. We are doing here what I came to see 
done. We'll hear from Listowel at one o'clock." 

Then, drawing on hope, the crowd would raise a cheer, 
which made the circuit of the town. 

Some of the scenes in the booths were truly "racy of the 
soil." In many cases the voter, assuming an air of dense 
stupidity, pretended to forget the name of Mr. Dease, or else 
gave the name of the landlord or agent. In this event, of 
course, the vote was lost, which was exactly what the sharp- 
witted rustic wanted. 

"What is your name ? " 

" My name, is it, sur ? " 

" Yes, sir, your name." 

"Och, then, begor, av' it's me name, I'll never deny it." 

A pause. 

" Come, sir, go down if you will not proceed." 

Here the agent's eye is caught menacingly fixed on him. 

"Arrah, shure, every one knows me name. What need 
you ax me ? " 

"What is it, sir ? last time." 

" What is it ? Dan Mahony, thanks be to God." 

" Daniel Mahoney, for whom do you vote ? " 

" For who do I wote, is it ? " 

A long — a very long — pause. 

" Come, sir, I'll take the next man." 

Dan looks at the agent, as if to say, " Blame me not. I'm 
doing my best." Then, with an effort, — 

"I wote for what's-his-name, you know, that me landlord 
wants me to wote for." 



470 NEW IBELAND. 

"That won't do, sir, and I can't waste anymore time with 
you. Clerk, take the next man." 

Here Mr. Dease's attorney makes an effort to whisper 
"Dease," but is collared by young Mr. Wright, who is in 
charge on our side. "No prompting, sir. I protest." Dan 
Mahony scratches his head in well-feigned perplexity, and, 
as if for life or death, shouts, — 

"IwotelosDaly!" 

A shriek from the attorneys. A groan from the agent. 
Dan is hustled out of the booth, exclaiming, as he goes, " I 
woted for me landlord's man ! " He turns round the street- 
corner and meets some neighbors on the lookout for him. 
" All right, boys. Hassett and Home Kule forever ! Hur- 
roo ! " 

I heard several such electors vote for "Lord Kenmare," 
one or two for "Mr. Gallwey, and there he is there this 
blessed minnit, thanks be to God ! " Mr. Gallwey being 
agent to the Kenmare estates, and a good and kindly one 
too. Indeed, throughout the whole election I never met a 
tenant on the Kenmare or Herbert properties who did not 
speak in highest terms of landlord and agent in each case. 

I was standing at a polling-place under a shed in the but- 
ter-market when old Sir James O'Connell of Lake View 
(brother of the Liberator), a most extraordinary and eccen- 
tric octogenarian, entered, leading or bringing on each side 
of him a countryman, whom he held by the coat-flap. March- 
ing up to a police-officer, he said, — 

" I want a few of your men to go over there for some of 
my tenants." 

" Do you mean, Sir James, that they are in danger of 
assault ? " 

" I mean that the crowd would assist them to run away." 

" Oh, Sir James, we can't do anything like that ; but if 
there is danger of assault or interference " 

" Well, then, will you mind these for me while I go my- 
self ?" 






THE KERRY ELECTION. 471 

The officer shook his head. " "We'll not let any one harm 
them, Sir James : that's all we can do." 

The old gentleman paused, looked at the two " free and 
independent " voters, whom he still affectionately held fast, 
and eventually said, " I'll poll them first, to make sure." 
He put up one. 

"For whom do you vote ?" 

" For Sir James O'Connell ! " 

"Oh, you bla'guard ! Oh, you stupid ass ! Oh, you in- 
fernal but, halloo — policeman ! Hey ! — I say — where 

is that other man I had by my side this minute ? Police ! 
Police ! " 

The assembled throng shrieked with laughter. The other 
voter had flitted, and as a matter of fact they told me he 
came up half an hour later and polled for Blennerhassett ! 

About half-past one o'clock I left the booths and pro- 
ceeded to the telegraph-office. The people in the streets 
easily guessed my errand, and made way, crushing closely 
after me, however, and surrounding the post-office in a great 
mass. Three telegrams soon reached me : one from Cahir- 
civeen, — "A hundred majority here ; " one from Tralee, — 
" Two hundred majority here, and Kenmare all right ; " one 
from Listowel, — " Seven hundred majority here." I felt as 
if I could spring over Mangerton. I rushed to the door with 
the open telegrams in my hands, but, before I could speak a 
word, quick as lightning-flash the people read it all in my 
face. They burst forth into the most frantic demonstrations 
of joy. They shouted, they cheered, they flung their hats 
in the air ; they rushed in a body to the court-house, where 
polling by this time was virtually over. As the noise was 
heard swelling up the street, every one within knew what it 
meant, and gave up for the day all further exertion. Soon 
the word went round, — the Home Ruler was in by over seven 
hundred. 

I left Killarney in the full tide of rejoicing, and took the 
train to Tralee. The scene at the latter town was still more 



472 NEW IRELAND. 

exciting. The majorities everywhere -were even greater at 
the close than had been telegraphed to me. On the hills 
around we could see the signal-fires that spread the news 
from the Shannon to Dunkerron. Next day and night as 
our friends in charge at the outlying stations came in, they 
brought the most astonishing stories of adventure and epi- 
sode. The scale was turned in our favor at Tralee by two 
incidents: first, the defection to us of "the Spa voters;" 
secondly, the dispersion of "the Dingle contingent," chiefly 
a body of Lord Ventry's men. The Spa was a parish or dis- 
trict some miles outside Tralee, the tenantry of which had 
all been " secured " by the land agent and were quite de- 
spaired of by us. The night before the poll the bailiffs had 
warned every man of them to be at the cross-roads in the 
morning at ten o'clock sharp to meet "the master" and 
march to Tralee for the poll. At ten o'clock "the master" 
rode down to the appointed spot, like Marshal Ney going to 
head his battalions. He found no tenantry awaiting him. 
"I am a little too soon," he reflected, and he rode his horse 
up and down the road for ten or fifteen minutes. Half an 
hour passed, and he became uneasy. A few peasants had 
been lounging about in the neighborhood, watching "his 
honor " with comical expression on their faces. One of them 
now came up. 

" May-be it's for the tinants your honor is waiting ?" 

" Yes, my good man ; yes, the lazy rascals ! Do you see 
any of them coming yet ? " 

" Coming, your honor ? Faith, 'tis at eight o'clock this 
morning they all left this with Father Eugene O'Sullivan at 
their head, and they're in Tralee an hour ago." 

Dashing spurs into his horse, he went at full gallop into 
town, and arrived just in time to see the last of the Spa men, 
over a hundred in number, polling for Blennerhassett. 

From Dingle, distant some twenty miles, a great avalanche 
was to have overwhelmed us. The story of "the Dingle 
contingent " was told me in great delight. Mr. De Moleyns, 






THE KERRY ELECTION. 473 

it seems, had gathered as many conveyances as would trans- 
port a small army corps, and quite a formidable body of 
cavalry had proceeded to Dingle to escort the cavalcade. 
When it started for Tralee it was fully a quarter of a mile 
in length, Mr. De Moleyns riding proudly at its head. 
After it had gone some miles he turned back to make some 
inquiry at the rear of the procession. Great was his dis- 
may to behold the last five or six cars empty. " Where are 
the voters who were on these cars ? " he stormily shouted at 
the drivers. 

" The wothers, captain ? Some of them slipped down 
there to walk a bit of the road, and f aix we're thinking that 
they're not coming at all." 

"Halt! halt!" he cried, and, full of rage, galloped to 
the head of the cavalcade. He called on the officer in com- 
mand of the cavalry to halt for a while, and detail a portion 
of his men for duty in the rear ; when, lo ! he now noticed 
that half a dozen cars at the front had, in his brief absence, 
totally, lost their occupants. According to my informants, 
Mr. De Moleyns, losing all temper, more forcibly than po- 
litely accused the officer of want of vigilance and neglect of 
duty ; whereupon the latter sharply replied, — 

" What, sir ! do you think I and my men have come here 
to be your bailiffs ? I am here to protect these men, if they 
want protection ; not to treat them as prisoners. And now, 
sir, I give you notice I will halt my men no more. Eeady, 
men ! Forward ! March ! " 

By this time fully a third of the voters had escaped. 
There was nothing for it but to push on. At the village of 
Castle-gregory, however, the severest ordeal awaited them. 
Here they found the entire population of the place, men, 
women, and children, occupying the road, the old parish 
priest standing in the middle of the highway, his gray hair 
floating in the wind. The villagers, chiefly the women, well 
knowing how the voters felt, poured out to them adjurations 
and appeals. The priest, in a few brief sentences, reached 



474 NEW IRELAND. 

every heart. "Ah, sons of Kerry," said he, "where is your 
pride and manhood, to be dragged like prisoners or carted 
like cattle in this way ? And for what ? That you may 
give the lie to your own conscience, and give a stab to your 
country, poor Ireland ! " "With one wild shout the voters 
sprang from the cars and disappeared in the body of the 
crowd. The grand " Dingle cavalcade " was a wreck, and 
Mr. De Moleyns, sad at heart, rode into Tralee at the head 
of an immense array of empty cars. 

For genuine fun and ingenuity perhaps the palm must be 
awarded to Cahirciveen. From Valencia Island, close by, a 
considerable body of electors were to be brought across the 
sound by their landlord, the Knight of Kerry, to poll at that 
town. A small ferry steamer supplied communication from 
shore to shore. Oddly enough, by some strange "accident," 
on her last trip to the island the evening previous to the poll 
she managed to run upon a rock, and was utterly disabled. 
The knight and his trusty men (the latter, however, knowing 
something that he did not) came down to the shore in the 
morning, and wasted some precious time shouting, " Steamer 
alioy ! " It was all as fruitless as the wailing of Lord Ullin 
to the boat in the ballad, that would not come back " across 
the stormy water." 

This was the last "open vote" electoral contest in Ireland. 
Such scenes as I have described will be witnessed no more. 
Five months subsequently — 13th of July, 1872 — the Ballot 
Act received the royal assent. That act gave a death-blow 
to electoral intimidation, from whatever quarter directed, and 
delivered the reality of political power at the polls, for the 
first time, into the hands of the people themselves. 

The Kerry election decided the fortunes of the new move- 
ment. It was the end of controversy. To this day it is 
called in Ireland "The Clare Election of Home Kule." 






CHAPTER XXX. 

BALLYCOHEY. 

" Mr. "William Scully, accompanied by a force of police 
and other armed attendants, again attempted to serve the 
ejectment notices on his Ballycohey tenantry to-day. A lam- 
entable tragedy ensued. The tenants barricaded and loop- 
holed one of the houses, from which they poured a deadly 
fire on the attacking party. The police returned the fire, 
and fought their way into the house, which they found evac- 
uated. Three of the police party are killed ; Mr. Scully is 
wounded in seven places, — it is thought mortally. Four 
policemen are more or less seriously wounded. None of the 
tenantry were seen. None of them seemed to have suffered. 
No arrests. Indescribable excitement throughout the whole 
district." 

Such was the alarming message telegraphed all over the 
kingdom from Tipperary on the evening of Friday, the 14th 
of August, 1868. When the full particulars of the astonish- 
ing story came to hand the excitement of the district spread 
through Ireland. Even in England it was the sensation of 
the day. 

Ballycohey is a town-land in Tipperary County, about two 
miles west of the Limerick Junction station, on the Great 
Southern and Western Railway, and distant less than three 
miles from the town of Tipperary. In the summer of 1868 
it was held by a considerable number of tenants, whose fore- 
fathers had occupied the place for a hundred years. They 
were an industrious, 'peaceable, and kindly people, punctually 
paid their rent, which was not a low one, and seem to have 

475 



476 NEW IRELAND. 

got on quite smoothly with their successive landlords until 
Mr. William Scully, a few years before this event, became 
the purchaser of Ballycohey. It had, nearly a century ago, 
been a leasehold possession of the Scullys, — one of the oldest 
Catholic families of social position in Tipperary, — but had 
passed from them in 1847. Its history during this period 
is supplied in the following letter from Mr. Carbery Scully, 
of Derry Park (a relative of Mr. William Scully), whose 
testimony, incidentally given, as to the character of the peo- 
ple, was fully corroborated by the other landlords of the 
neighborhood : 

" About the year 1782, when first Catholic gentlemen could get leases 
of property, my grandfather, James Scully of Kilf eacle, took the lands 
of Shronehill and Ballycohey from Lady Caroline Darner at a lease of 
three lives, viz. , his eldest son then living, Roger, his third son, James; 
and my father, whose name was Edmund, being the names in the lease. 
Those lands were settled on my father on his marriage in 1806. He 
kept them in his own possession until about the year 1821, when he 
commenced letting them to tenants, and I see by the leases now in my 
possession that among the number a lease was made 3d February, 
1823, to William Dwyer and his brother-in-law, John Tooley, at a rent 
of three pounds five shillings an acre for their lives, or twenty-one 
years. The other tenants' names at Ballycohey were Ryans, Greens, 
Quinns, Heffernans, Foleys, Hanlys, Tooleys, and some few others. 
They were the most honest, quiet, and industrious people I ever met ; 
all paid high rents, and most punctually, and if I was to select the two 
most honest, not only among them, but the two worthiest men I ever 
met, they were Dwyer and Tooley (John), his brother-in-law. In the 
year 1839, at my father's decease, the property (Ballycohey) came to 
me, and I continued the same tenants and renewed some leases of those 
which expired. When James Scully of Tipperary (the last life in the 
lease) died, in January, 1847, the property went out of my possession 
into that of the landlord's, Lord Portarlington, whose agent was the 
late John Sadleir, and he continued the same tenants at the reduced 
rent I gave it at, when the potatoes failed in the winter of 1845. Some 
time after, when Lord Portarlington sold the property, Mr. Errington 
purchased Shronehill, and Mr. Grey, agent to that best of landlords 
(Lord Derby), purchased Ballycohey, and I believe continued the same 
tenants at the reduced rent. Thus stood the matter until the property 
was purchased a few years ago by Mr. William Scully. As it was my 



BALLTCOHEY. 477 

father first brought those tenants or their fathers on those lands, and 
I continued them there, I feel bound to bear testimony to their hon- 
esty and industry when I knew them." 

It was with something like dismay the Ballycohey tenantry 
heard Mr. Grey had sold the land to William Scully. This 
latter gentleman was already unpleasantly known to fame as 
a landlord. He was a man of large wealth, and had exten- 
sive estates, not only in Ireland but in America.* Yet his 
career and character up to this more than justified the appre- 
hensions of the Ballycohey farmers. In 1849 he was tried 
at Clonmel assizes for the shooting of two fine young men, 
named Bergin, sons of a tenant whom he was evicting at 
Ballinclough ; but he was acquitted on this charge. A like 
good fortune did not await him at the Kilkenny summer 

* Mr. W. Scully (brother of Mr. Vincent Scully, formerly M.P. for 
Cork County, and cousin of Mr. Frank Scully, formerly M.P. for Tip- 
perary) owns twenty -five thousand acres of the choicest land in Illinois, 
the "Garden State" of America. This estate is situated in Tazewell 
County, and comprises the greater portion of the celebrated Delavan 
Prairie, the richest loam in the United States. A friend who visited 
the place recently, and from whom I derive these facts, says, "About 
the termination of the Mexican war Mr. Scully was prospecting for 
land in America. Illinois had but just been formed into a State and 
taken into the Union. Each soldier was entitled to a land claim of 
one hundred and sixty acres. Soldiers, as a rule, care little for land. 
Mr. Scully went among them as the army was about being disbanded, 
and purchased for a mere trifle one hundred and sixty claims of one 
hundred and sixty acres each. Singular to say, many Tipperary peo- 
ple are resident upon this tract as tenants, the rent averaging about 
five dollars, or one pound, per acre. A Tipperary man named Cooney, 
one of the tenants, offered a few years ago one hundred dollars per 
acre to Mr. Scully for the fee-simple of the farm which he held under 
him. It was refused. The average price of good cleared land in the 
same State is from twenty to thirty dollars per acre. In the session 
of the State Legislature of 1876 a bill was introduced by the Hon. P. 
W. Dunne, one of the members for Peoria County, to impose an ex- 
traordinary tax upon the estate of Mr. Scully, on the ground of his 
being an alien and an absentee. The measure was not carried through, 
but is not abandoned." 



478 NEW IRELAND. 

assizes of 1865, when he was sentenced to twelve months' 
imprisonment for beating and wounding the wife of one of 
his tenants, named Tehan, while attempting to break into 
Tehan's house in the dead of night to serve some notice or 
make a seizure. His ideas of a landlord's rights were strict, 
and his mode of enforcing them strong, — too strong the 
judge thought, and so sent him to Kilkenny County jail for 
a year's hard labor. In truth he became the terror of the 
unfortunate tenantry who owned his sway. He was a Cath- 
olic, and the parish priest remonstrated forcibly, from time 
to time, against his course of conduct. Mr. Scully retaliated 
by putting his children into the wagonette one Sunday 
morning and driving with them to the Protestant church. 
When this news reached the congregation at the Catholic 
chapel after mass, they took off their hats and gave "three 
cheers," delighted that " Billy," as he was called, was no 
longer one of themselves. The Ballycohey men noted early 
that he was trying to "get a holt on them," as they ex- 
pressed it ; but, as they fairly paid their rent, and as it was 
a pretty high one, it was not clear what he would do. They 
soon found out. He valued money much, — he was avari- 
cious, — but he valued despotic power even more. He framed 
a form of lease for the Ballycohey tenantry, refusal of which 
was to be the signal for their eviction. This was a most as- 
tonishing document. The tenants were always to have a 
half-year's rent paid in advance ; to pay the rent quarterly ; 
to surrender on twenty-one days' notice at the end of any 
quarter ; to forego all claims to their own crops that might 
be in the soil ; and they were to pay all rates and taxes what- 
soever. "Whoever refused to accept these terms must quit. 

Any one who knew the people of Tipperary could tell 
what this was sure to bring about. The magistrates and the 
police officers warned Mr. Scully. He cared not. He ap- 
plied for and received a guard of police on his house and 
person, and went about heavily armed himself, besides being 
so attended. 






BALLYCOHEY. 479 

Early in June, 1868, lie noticed the tenants to bring him 
the May rent to Dobbyn's Hotel in Tipperary on a particular 
day. He sat at the table with a loaded revolver on each 
hand, and a policeman with rifle and saber close by. Only 
four tenants came in person. The rest sent the rent by mes- 
sengers, which greatly angered him, for he wanted the oppor- 
tunity of obtaining their signatures to the famous "lease" 
or else handing them there and then a " notice to quit. " This 
was exactly what the absentees suspected, and so they sent 
the money by their wives or sons. The four who came were 
asked to sign. They refused, and ran away. He swore at 
them ; and they defiantly replied, consigning him in loudly- 
expressed wishes to another and not a better world. It was 
now open war. Mr. Scully took out ejectment processes. 
These require to be either personally served or else left at the 
tenant's house, some member of the family or servant being 
at the moment within. The constabulary inspector had in- 
formation that any attempt of Mr. Scully to appear on the 
lands delivering these missives of vengeance would be resisted 
to bloodshed. But nothing could move him from his pur- 
pose. On Tuesday, the 11th of August, he set forth at the 
head of a police escort and his own bailiffs to serve the eject- 
ments. The party was seen approaching, and a signal halloo 
was passed along the fields. Immediately the houses were 
abandoned, and at the same time the police could see men 
running from far and near to swell the angry crowd that was 
gathering. Owing to the abandonment of the houses, only a 
few notices could be served ; and by this time the surround- 
ing crowd, groaning, yelling, cursing, and threatening, had 
become so excited that the officer in command of the police 
called on Mr. Scully to desist forthwith, and let them safely 
retreat to the town ere it was too late. Eeluctantly he con- 
sented. The crowd followed, and by the time they reached 
Tipperary they had to fight their way to the hotel. Under 
all these circumstances most other men would have paused. 
Mr. Scully determined to push on. Early on the following 



480 NEW IRELAND. 

Friday he was once more at the head of his force, and mak- 
ing a dash to surprise Ballycohey. His approach was quickly 
signaled as before, and a scene similar to that of Tuesday 
ensued, the people being rather more violent. The police 
had much difficulty in guarding Mr. Scully and young Gor- 
man, his land-bailiff, who were the especial objects of hos- 
tility. At length things became so critical that the officer 
once again pointed out the madness of persevering, and said he 
would not be accountable for the consequences. Mr. Scully 
said it was hard to be baffled by the villains a second time, 
but eventually assented. They decided to make for the rail- 
way-station, as the nearest shelter. Some of the police with 
fixed sword-bayonets went in front, others marched to the 
rear to keep back the crowd. While thus with some difficulty 
pushing their way to safety, they passed within a short dis- 
tance of a house owned by one of the defiant tenants named 
John Dwyer.* The " temptation " was too great for Mr. 
Scully. "We will try this one," he said, and turned into 
the little boreen or walled avenue leading to the house. The 
guards followed, some halting at the entrance to the avenue 
to repress the throng at bayonet-point. The hall door of the 
house was entered from a farm-yard quadrangle, formed by 
out-offices. Mr. Scully, Gorman, a bailiff named Maher, and 
Sub-Constable Morrow, dashed to the hall door, opened it, 
and entered. At that instant from within the house and 
without the crash of pistol and musket shot was heard in a 
regular volley. Morrow fell outside the door, shot from a 
loophole in one of the flanking buildings. Gorman fell just 
inside the threshold, riddled with bullets fired from a loft 
within, which commanded the entrance. Mr. Scully and 
Maher, both wounded, the former with two bullets lodged 
in his neck and badly hurt from several others, rushed from 
the house and sheltered behind the pier of the yard gateway. 

* The man of whom Mr. Carbery Scully speaks so favorably in his 
letter quoted at p. 476. 



BALLYCOEEY. 481 

Here, halting, Mr. Scully, with his double-barreled breech- 
loader and a revolver, commenced a brisk fire at the windows 
and loopholes, the police also pouring in a sharp rifle-fire. 
At length Mr. Scully called out, "Who will enter the house 
with me ? " "I will," said Head-Constable Cleary, and the 
whole force rushed in. " They are in that loft," said Mr. 
Scully, and at the words a shot from the spot indicated 
struck Sub-Constable Colleton. The step-ladder to the loft 
had been taken up, and it was only with difficulty Cleary 
could mount to the place. When he succeeded, — lo ! it was 
empty. He found a breastwork made with feather beds, and 
behind it a revolver and some cartridges. Further search re- 
vealed a hole at the edge of the roof recently made, through 
which the firing party had retreated to the garden at the 
rear. The police next proceeded to the out-houses, from 
which by this time the firing had ceased. Here also they 
found fire-arms and ammunition ; one blunderbuss having 
burst quite close to the stock. But as each house or barn 
had a rear exit, through which retreat had been secured, no 
one was captured. Not even a trace by which suspicion 
might be assisted, or identification secured, could they find 
throughout the premises ! 

They now turned their attention to the wounded. Morrow 
was quite dead. Gorman was alive, but senseless. He never 
spoke again, poor fellow. All the rest could walk, though 
bleeding severely. Mr. Scully, I have reason to believe, 
wore a suit of chain mail under his clothes, — a precaution 
which saved his life. * He was made a target. When they 
found he did not fall though hit by a dozen bullets in the 
body, they poured their fire at his head, six shots taking 
effect. A friend of mine, who visited the spot immediately 

* Two countrymen were heard discoursing on the circumstance at 
the Cahir railway-station a day or two subsequently. " Arrah ! how 
could the villain be killed when he wore a helmet on his stomach / " 
was the exclamation which closed the discussion. 

21 



482 NEW IRELAND. 

after, marked seven bullet-holes in the door within a diame- 
ter of six inches, just where Mr. Scully stood. 

"Let us hold a council of war," said Mr. Scully. "What 
shall we do ? Let us at once make our way to the station." 

"What!" said the head constable; "abandon these 
wounded men ? No. I shall stay here till help comes. 
You have your own guard. Go, if you will." 

According to the constable's evidence at the inquest, Mr. 
Scully thought this most absurd, and said, "What good can 
you do to a dead or dying man ? Come and protect me." 
But the officer, grieved, disgusted, and angered, as well he 
might have been, by the whole dreadful business, would 
have no more to do with Mr. Scully ; would not abandon 
his dead comrade and the dying Gorman. 

The fate of the latter was singularly sad. A friend, resi- 
dent close by the place, writing to me, says, " Gorman, poor 
fellow, knew that morning that he was facing death, but he 
would not desert ' the master,' for reasons that did him all 
credit." The facts were these: Gorman was the son of a 
widow holding a small farm on one of Mr. Scully's proper- 
ties. Mr. Scully, finding him an unusually smart and intel- 
ligent lad, sent him to a veterinary college in Scotland, had 
him there professionally educated, and then made him stew- 
ard and estate-bailiff. It was a perilous and an odious post, 
and the young man did not like it. " What can I do ? " said 
he. "I hate it. I hate this dreadful work the master is 
doing ; but for me to leave him and get another situation on 
the strength of the education he gave me at his sole expense, 
would surely be mean ; and, besides, 'tis merciless he would 
be to my poor mother if I acted so. " The week before this 
Ballycohey affair he received several friendly warnings, tell- 
ing him not to rush on certain destruction. What follows I 
give in the words of my friend : 

" The evening preceding the battle of Ballycohey, Darby 
Gorman visited the village of Golden, which is little more 
than a mile from Scully's residence at Ballenaclogh. The 



BALLYCOHEY. 483 

country round Golden is one of the most picturesque and 
fertile in Tipperary. Here, it is said, the poet Moore wrote 
one or two of the most beautiful of his immortal melodies, 
while on a visit to his sister, who was married to one of the 
Scully family. Gorman, on the evening alluded to, met a 
young companion named O'Donnell. They talked over 
Scully's first visit to Ballycohey, and the letters of warning 
which Gorman had received in the interval. His companion 
advised him not to go to Ballycohey again, as he certainly 
would be shot. Gorman replied, ' I know I shall ; but what 
can I do ? ' 'Go to Cahir,' said his friend, 'and enlist in 
the cavalry. You are well educated, and being a veterinary 
surgeon you are sure to advance.' ' If I turn my back upon 
Scully,' replied Gorman, ' what will become of my poor 
mother and my little brothers and sisters ? I know he is a 
tyrant and won't spare them ; yet he educated me, and I 
don't like to desert him.' ' Believe me,' said O'Donnell, 'I 
know Scully well ; and if you lose your life in his service, 
he will forget it to your family.' They parted, each to his 
home. Gorman, on his return, was told by his mother that 
the master called, inquiring for him ; that she told him he 
had gone to the village. She said Mr. Scully desired her to 
tell him to be up early the next morning, as they had to go 
from home a distance. ' Mother,' said the son, ' I know 
where he is going to, and I don't like to go.' 'Well, 
Darby,' replied the mother, 'go to bed, in the name of 
God, and I'll call you up early in the morning.' The young 
man retired to his room. He had a presentiment it would 
be his last night on earth, and he had already prepared him- 
self for death by having received the sacraments of his 
Church. He spent a restless night, and was up and dressed 
at an early hour. His mother had his breakfast in readi- 
ness. He, poor fellow, had small desire for it. He bade 
his mother good-by, but concealed from her the dreadful 
apprehension that oppressed him. After leaving the house 
he suddenly returned to it, and entering his room hastily 



484 NEW IRELAND. 

wrote on a slip of paper, which was subsequently found on 
his dressing-table, 'I shall never return to this house alive.' 
A few hours afterward the tragic prophecy was realized, 
and one of the finest, most intelligent and impulsively gen- 
erous young men in Tipperary was borne back to his wid- 
owed mother a stark and bloody corpse, the victim of a 
despot's ruthless will." 

The Ballycohey tragedy passed the Irish Land Act of 
1870 ; that is to say, argument and sentimental conclusion 
having gone before, this was the incident which supplied 
that decisive impulse to public opinion which leads to ac- 
tion. Mr. Scully's despotism came at a critical moment to 
illustrate and exemplify the state of things under which the 
agricultural population of Ireland long had groaned. Every 
voice was raised against him. His brother landlords and 
magistrates, in meeting assembled, passed a resolution rep- 
robating his conduct. The coroner's jury, inquiring into 
the deaths of the murdered men, added to their verdict the 
following : 

" The jury are further of opinion that the conduct of Mr. William 
Scully as regards his proceedings toward his tenantry at Ballycohey 
is much to be deprecated ; and the sooner legislative enactments be 
passed to put a stop to any such proceedings, the better for the peace 
and welfare of the country." 

But Mr. Scully had a triumphant answer for them all. 
He was within the law. He was but enforcing legally what 
the law decreed ! There was no gainsaying this : so even 
from London journals there came the important rejoinder, 
" Such laws must be changed." Said the Saturday Review, 
"Landlords are not a divine institution any more than the 
Irish Church. They exist for Ireland, not Ireland for them ; 
and where the genius and circumstances of a country are so 
widely different from ours, its laws and institutions without 
any want of reason might well differ too." The Irish Land 
question was stated in these two sentences of the Saturday 



BALLYCOEEY. 485 

Review. They covered the whole case. Such utterances 
conveyed not even "a choleric word" now, coming from 
a leading London politician, whereas they were "flat blas- 
phemy " — " communism," as Dr. Cooke would say — fifteen 
years before, when spoken by members of the Irish Tenant 
League. 

But a new and better England had arisen since then ; and 
now, from the Tyne to the Thames, men cried out, " These 
things must no longer be." It was announced that, as the 
Irish Church Bill was the work of 1869, the Irish Land 
Bill would be the task for 1870. 

That the promised measure might be a real and efficacious 
settlement of this long-standing grievance — might sweep 
away once and forever the cause and source of so much 
bloodshed and crime, so much suffering and wrong — was the 
dominant anxiety of every thoughtful mind in Ireland 
throughout the winter of 1869. When the boon appeared it 
sadly disappointed the national hopes and expectations. It 
was a half -measure, and, like all half-measures dealing with 
gigantic issues, did not receive even half -justice in popular 
estimation, but was wholly condemned and sweepingly de- 
nounced. Yet was it a great and wondrous stride in British 
legislation for Ireland, — not so much in the letter of its 
clauses as in the spirit of the whole enactment and in the 
principles which it admitted. 

The two great evils which constituted the Land grievance 
in Ireland (where the "Ulster right" did not prevail) were 
confiscation of tenant property, and capricious eviction. A 
tenant, by expenditure of his capital or his labor, quadrupled 
the value of his land, — made it worth two pounds an acre 
instead of ten shillings. The landlord confiscated or appro- 
priated that tenant's property either by raising the rent 
(slowly or suddenly) to two pounds an acre, or by forthwith 
evicting the tenant and letting the land to some one ready 
to pay forty shillings for it. Usually the tenant, rather than 
be evicted, agreed to each rise of the rent on his own outlay. 



486 NEW IRELAND. 

That was, in brief, the "confiscation" grievance. The evic- 
tion or tenure grievance was this : that even where the 
tenant punctually paid his rent, even where the highest rent 
demanded was given, even where the tenant was industrious 
and improving, even where the farm had for hundreds of 
years been the possession and home of the tenant's family, 
the landlord could, of mere caprice, giving no reason at all, 
evict that tenant and do what he liked with the land. This 
was the case at Ballycohey. Persistently and irrepressibly, 
therefore, the Irish tenantry have ever demanded that the law 
shall put an end alike to "confiscation" and to "capricious 
eviction," shall prevent the landlord from levying a rent on 
value created by the tenantry, and shall forbid him from 
evicting, unless for statutable cause. That is the Irish Land 
question from the tenant's point of view. 

The landlords say, It is quite true some of our class raise 
their rents unjustly and extortionately, so as to reap a gain 
from the tenant's outlay ; and it is true some of them evict 
for mere caprice or for political vengeance ; but if you pre- 
vent us from raising or lowering our rents as to us may 
seem fit, you interfere with the freedom of contract ; and if 
you forbid eviction, unless for statutable cause, you interfere 
with the rights of property, and make us mere, "rent- 
chargers." 

There is much in all this ; but no one ever heard that the 
landlords of Ulster found their status lowered, their rights 
destroyed, or their property deteriorated by that " Ulster 
custom " which substantially did all that was now demanded. 
On the contrary, landlord property in Ulster is most secure 
and valuable ; and the province blooms like a garden. 

The Gladstone Act of 1870 secures undoubted compensa- 
tion to agricultural tenants for improvements effected in and 
on the soil, and admits to a certain extent a property right of 
occupancy on the part of the tenant. The first-mentioned 
portion of the act substantially met the Irish demands. On 
the second — the question of tenure — it made a bold, and 



BALLYCOHET. 487 

doubtless what its author wished to be a successful, attempt 
to stop, or rather to deter from, unjust and capricious evic- 
tions. This it aimed to accomplish by a limited scale of fines 
upon the evicting landlord, to be paid as compensation to the 
evicted tenant. The latter part of the act has been a woful 
failure. The limited fines have been mere cobweb bonds to 
restrain landlords from carrying out capricious evictions 
where so disposed. The act, however, has opened a new era 
in Ireland. Evictions of the old character and extent will 
henceforth hardly be attempted. Isolated instances of agra- 
rian outrage may occasionally appear, but the dreadful 
storms of tenant vengeance and crime that used to prevail of 
old will no more appall the land. 

Not every tragedy in the history of the Irish Land code 
has had a sequel so romantically pleasing and happy as that 
of Ballycohey. Mr. Scully recovered from his wounds, and, 
merciless as ever, rendered desperate by what had occurred, 
prepared to exterminate man, woman, and child of " the 
murderers." The kingdom looked on heart-wrung and ap- 
palled ; for there was no law to hold his hand. The doomed 
j>eople sullenly and hopelessly, yet defiantly, awaited the 
blow. Heaven sent them succor, rescue, safety. Mr. Charles 
Moore, of Mooresfort, then member for Tipperary, appealed 
to Mr. Scully not to convulse the country anew, — besought 
him to spare the people. " Say what price you put on this 
Ballycohey property. / will pay it to you, and let there be 
an end to this dreadful episode ! " 

Even so was it done. Mr. Scully told how many thou- 
sands he would take ; Mr. Moore paid the money down ; and 
Ballycohey to-day is the happiest spot in all the land, — the 
home of peace, security, contentment, prosperity. That 
deed of rescue deserves to be recorded in letters of gold. 
The people of Tipperary will never forget it, Mr. Moore 
died soon after ; but when, in the general election of 1874, 
the burghers of Clonmel decided to replace the much- 
respected gentleman who had hitherto represented them as a 



488 NEW IRELAND. 

Liberal — Mr. Bagwell — by a man more thoroughly reflecting 
the national sentiment, they selected young Arthur Moore 
of Mooresfort ; much because he was a Home Euler, more 
because he was his father's son. He is named on the Eoll of 
Parliament as representative of Clonmel ; but he sits as the 
member for Ballycohey. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE DISESTABLISHED CHUBCH. 

IN" 1870 the episcopalian Protestants of Ireland were called 
upon to face a state of things well calculated to test their 
devotion, their courage, their ability. Their Church as a 
State institution had been swept away ; and they had to ad- 
dress themselves to the serious work of building up a new 
system. All eyes were strained to watch their movements. 
How would Disestablishment affect the Irish Episcopal 
Protestant Church ? .What would be the result of that 
measure financially ? How would it affect the structure or 
ecclesiastical organization of the Church ? Would it lead 
to doctrinal change or modification ? Would it prove in- 
jurious or serviceable to Irish Protestantism ? These were 
questions on every lip ; eager and anxious speculations on 
all sides. 

The interval since 1870 has shown the Irish Protestants 
engaged in this great labor, involved betimes in menacnig 
difficulties ; yet it is fair to say that they have exhibited 
dignity, resolution, self-reliance, and a reconstructive ability 
beyond praise. Many persons imagined the Catholics would 
wish them evil, and would break forth into ebullitions of 
exultation, or expressions of derision, when in the Church 
Synod stormy scenes now and again marked the debates on 
"Revision." Nothing of the kind occurred. The Catho- 
lics of Ireland, on the whole, rather rejoiced to see how well 
a body of Irish gentlemen could legislate on Irish affairs ; 
and I believe it to be the fact that, as a sort of Irish Prot- 
21* 489 



490 NEW IRELAND. 

estant-Church Parliament, the Synod was popular with 
most Catholic Irishmen. 

A great English moral philosopher — Bishop Butler — has 
observed that "it is one of the peculiar weaknesses of 
human nature, when upon a comparison of two things one 
is found to be of greater importance than the other, to con- 
sider this other as of scarce any importance at all." It 
seems to be only another view of this weakness to say that 
near and present objects have a tendency to obscure objects 
that are distant and remote. Ireland, in the course of the 
last three centuries, has experienced several disestablish- 
ments and disendowments ; but the legislation of 1869 so 
engrosses the eyes of our mind that we fail to realize the 
previous processes, although some of them were every whit 
as sudden, as thorough, and as revolutionary as the one car- 
ried out in our own day. Henry VIII., Edward VI., Mary, 
Elizabeth, Cromwell, and Charles II., all in some sense, as 
well as Mr. Gladstone, disestablished and disendowed the 
State creeds which they found existing; and they all, ex- 
cept Mr. Gladstone, set up or restored their own creed in 
place of that which they destroyed. Mr. Gladstone differs 
from all the preceding in this, that he disestablished the 
Church to which he belonged ; and a comparison of his 
legislation with that of Henry VIII. suggests the further curi- 
ous anomaly that when England was Catholic she disestab- 
lished the Catholic Church in Ireland, and when she was Prot- 
estant she disestablished the Protestant Church in Ireland. 

Henry's confiscation of Catholic Church property, which 
was in fact continued and carried out by Edward and Eliza- 
beth (having been for a little resisted by Mary), was sweep- 
ing and unsparing. It is impossible to calculate the money 
value of the spoliation, the number of livings seized, or the 
number of clergy dispossessed by the Tudors or by Crom- 
well ; but we do know enough of the condition in which 
the clergy were placed by both of them to compare these 
proceedings with Mr. Gladstone's measure. We know from 



THE DISESTABLISHED CHURCH. 491 

Sir James Ware that Henry VIII. dissolved over five hun- 
dred and twenty abbeys and monasteries, and that Edward 
and Elizabeth handed over, or intended to hand over, all 
the Catholic benefices to Protestant pastors, — i.e., all the 
benefices that escaped lay pillage and appropriation, — but 
how many those benefices were, we know not. We know, 
too, that Cromwell, while he gave up the churches to be 
ransacked for their roofs and furniture, reserved the Church 
lands and tithes for the Parliament, and that he disposed of 
them to "non-adventurers," on short leases, while he turned 
the clergy adrift. Under his rule in Ireland, Protestant re- 
ligious ministrations through the country, so far as they 
were supplied at all, were probably in the main supplied by 
the existing Church incumbents who consented to use the 
Directory instead of the Prayer Book, and who, on the Pro- 
tector's death, flocked in a body to the standard of the Res- 
toration. 

We have abundant information from the highest sources 
as to the condition of ecclesiastical affairs from Henry VIII. 's 
act to Cromwell's time. We have in Protestant historians, 
such as Collier, Cox, and Leland ; in the letters of lords- 
lieutenant, governors, archbishops, and judges ; in the State 
papers published by the English and Irish Public Record 
offices — an unbroken stream of testimony complaining and 
showing that the condition of religion was scandalous, and 
the condition of the clergy deplorable. Spenser, the poet, 
who w T rote his "View of the State of Ireland" about 1594, 
relates these things. The volumes of State papers of James 
I., edited with a preface in 1874 by the Eev. Dr. Russell and 
Mr. John P. Prendergast, give harrowing statements by 
Archbishop Loftus and Bishop Jones, by Judge Saxey and 
Sir John Davys, Attorney-General. They tell us "the 
Churchmen were for the most part ciphers, and could not 
read;" that they were "serving-men and horseboys, and 
had two or three benefices apiece ;" that "gentlemen, wo- 
men, and Jesuits had the benefits of the benefices ; " that 



492 NEW IRELAND. 

"the churches were in ruins, and that there was no divine 
service, no christenings, no sacrament, no congregations, 
and no more demonstration of religion than among Tar- 
tars ; " that there were " not three sufficient bishops in all 
the kingdom ;" and that "the country was swarming with 
Catholic priests who were maintained by noblemen." 

The Irish Convocation itself certified to Charles L (1629) 
that "In the whole Christian world the rural clergy have 
not been reduced to such extreme contempt and beggary as 
in this your Highness's kingdom by means of the frequent 
appropriations ; whereby the subject has been left wholly 
destitute of all possible means to learn piety to God or loyalty 
to their prince." Such was the condition in which the first 
disestablishment left the Protestant religion and its clergy. 

This state of affairs continued in all its features down to 
1647. In that year Lord-Lieutenant Ormond surrendered 
Dublin to Colonel Michael Jones and the parliamentary 
forces, and was publicly thanked by the Protestants for 
not surrendering them to their "natural enemies the Irish 
people." The metropolis was then crowded with ministers 
who had flocked in from all parts of the country to escape 
the ravages of the four or five armies that were maraud- 
ing the land. The unfortunate men with their families, 
deprived of all means of subsistence, were literally fed 
by the weekly allowance of bread granted them by Or- 
mond ; and they soon had occasion to perceive how much 
reason there was for gratitude to Colonel Jones and the 
Puritans. They petitioned for leave to continue to use the 
Prayer Book instead of the Directory, and were refused as 
"ill and unworthy preaching ministers;" they petitioned 
for bread, and were told that "if they wanted State pay 
they should do the State some service and enlist."* The 
degradation of the Episcopalians was now complete. The 

* Rev. Dr. Eussell and Mr. Prendergast's " Report on the Carte 
Manuscripts," pp. 104, 105, in 32d Report of Irish Public Record Office, 
1871. 



TEE DISESTABLISEED CEURGE. 493 

churches were given up to the soldiery for wreck and ruin ; 
and it is impossible to conceive that there can have been any 
ministrations of religion anywhere outside the cities and 
garrison towns. This state of religious havoc came to an 
end with the fall of the Commonwealth ; and the Kestora- 
tion in 1660 replaced Church matters as they in effect con- 
tinued down to the "Whig Church Temporalities Act in 1833. 
Cromwell's reservation of the tithes and Church lands, and 
his short leases, facilitated the restitution of the endow- 
ment, which was abundantly supplemented by the Act of 
Settlement out of the forfeited lands of the Catholics ; and 
the State Church was once again made wealthy and lordly. 

Passing over the intermediate period from the Eestoration 
to Lord Grey's Whig ministry, we come to the statistics of 
the first Irish Church Temporalities Act in 1833. Lord 
Althorp, the Home Secretary, then informed Parliament 
that the Irish benefices were at that time fourteen hundred 
and one, four archbishops and eighteen bishops, twenty-two 
dioceses ; the net income of the prelates £130,000 a year, 
the total Church revenue £732,000 a year ; and that there 
were fifty-seven churches in which no service had been per- 
formed for three years. The act, besides abolishing the 
parish cess, suppressed two archbishoprics, eight bishoprics, 
the unused churches, and handed over the amount of in- 
come, about £113,000 a year, to the then appointed Ecclesi- 
astical Commission for the supply of Church requisites 
throughout the country. In 1867 the late Lord Derby, who, 
as Irish Secretary, helped to carry the act of 1833, issued a 
commission to report on the temporalities of the Irish Church, 
and that commission reported two archbishops, ten bishops, 
thirty-two deans, thirty-three archdeacons, fifteen hundred 
and nine incumbents and five hundred curates, fifteen hun- 
dred and eighteen benefices ; the net income of the prelates 
£58,031, and the total income of the Church £613,984 a year. 

So matters stood with the Episcopal Protestant Church of 
Ireland in 1868. When in the following year Mr. Glad- 



494 NEW IRELAND. 

stone's great act became law, the Churcli was found to con- 
tain two thousand and fifty-nine annuitants, mainly clergy, 
together with a few laymen connected with the cathedrals as 
vicars-choral. To these annuities to the amount of £590,892 
were payable. The Church had also possession of various 
sums the amount not easy to determine, arising out of pri- 
vate endowments, together with the glebes, episcopal palaces, 
and churches. By the act of Disestablishment she was de- 
prived of all except the churches. In lieu of the private en- 
dowments a sum of £500,000 was granted ; while glebes and 
bishops' houses were made purchasable on certain easy terms 
prescribed by the Act. In dealing with the annuitants, the 
simple principle was adopted of paying every man his due as 
long as he lived. In order to avoid the long and tedious 
process which should otherwise have to be undertaken by 
the Treasury, certain terms of commutation were offered ; 
viz., the payment of a capital sum for each annuitant's case, 
— depending on his age, the Government offices' rate of mor- 
tality and value of money three and a half per cent., to 
which was finally added twelve per cent, on the capital sums 
thus estimated in consideration of supposed better average 
life of clergy, and of the expenses of management. On re- 
ceipt of these sums, the clergy consenting to the extent of 
three-fourths of their number in each diocese, the Eepresen- 
tative Body, chartered by the Crown, was to undertake the 
payment of the annuities. After consideration, the bishops 
and clergy — with the exception of about a hundred of their 
number — accepted these terms ; in consequence of which the 
Eepresentative Body has received in the shape of advances 
from the Treasury, through the Irish Church Temporalities 
Commission, sums for commutation of annuities amounting 
to £7,563,144. The number of annuitants was 2059 ; an- 
nuities payable, £590,892 ; commutation capital, £7,563,144 ; 
interest of money, 3£ per cent. ; year's purchase, 12.8; av- 
erage age, 56. 
It will be seen that a return of eight per cent, on the com- 



THE DISESTABLISHED CHURCH. 495 

mutation capital -would pay the annuities. It was antici- 
pated that by judicious investment four per cent, could be 
earned. The principle enforced by those who led the move- 
ment which ended in inducing the clergy to commute for 
their incomes, and take the Eepresentative Body as their 
paymaster instead of the Treasury, may be thus stated : "If 
you consent to commute, and if we can induce the laity to 
subscribe an annual sum equal to the other four per oent., we 
shall be able to save the capital, to pay your annuities, and 
prevent the entire burden of supporting religion from falling 
on our descendants." To the laity they addressed the same 
language, saying in addition, " Under the Act you are entitled 
to the life-services of your clergy without paying them a 
penny. If you adopt a selfish policy, and say " (as some did), 
" ' We will enjoy this benefit ; and let those that come after 
take care of themselves,' a burden will be thrown on Irish 
Protestants which will be difficult to bear ; for the day must 
come when the last penny will have to be sold out to pay the 
last man of the annuitants." These arguments prevailed, 
and, as will be seen, the Irish Protestant laity have done 
their duty manfully by their Church.* 

When the act was framed it was foreseen that there would 
be a considerable reduction in the number of the clergy, and 
accordingly all the annuitants were enabled to enter into 
terms with the Eepresentative Body by which their services 
might be dispensed with, and in consideration a certain por- 
tion of the capital sum corresponding to their annuities 
would go to the Eepresentative Body for Church purposes. 
Under this authority a Table of Compositions was framed, 
on the princij?^ that an annuitant of thirty-five years of age 
should get one-third, one of sixty-five and upward two- 
thirds, of his commutation capital ; the sum increasing by 
one-ninetieth for each year of age between these limits, and 
going down by a ninetieth for ages below thirty-five. Under 

* The great defaulters were the absentee Protestant land proprietors. 



496 NEW IRELAND. 

this table a considerable number of the annuitants com- 
pounded ; as may be judged from the fact that between com- 
pounders and deaths during the seven years from 1870 to 
1877 the number of annuitants has been reduced to one 
thousand and fifty-two. By the operation of composition 
there was of course a large reduction in the commutation 
capital, a corresponding reduction in annuities payable, and 
a large Composition Balance acquired for Church purposes, 
amounting at present to about £1,300,000. 

At first it was intended to administer the whole finance 
of the Church from one center in Dublin ; but on better 
reflection a kind of "Home Eule" or "Federal plan" has 
been adopted. Each diocese manages its own affairs, subject 
to certain general principles, under the control of the Kepre- 
sentative Body, which meets once a month in Dublin. This 
body consists of forty-eight elected and twelve co-opted mem- 
bers. Election and co-option take place every year ; but 
members once elected or co-opted hold their places for three 
years. All money collected under these schemes is sent up 
to headquarters, and paid out again as stipends (under war- 
rants drawn on the Bank of Ireland) to the proper parties, 
as directed by the several diocesan councils. During the last 
seven years the laity have contributed in this way £1,610,703, 
of which £37,500 was received from England. In addition 
to this must be counted all the sums expended in each local- 
ity by the select vestries of each parish for care of churches. 
Estimating this at the moderate sum of eighty pounds each 
for twelve hundred and forty-three parishes, the present num- 
ber, this would represent a further contribution of £596,610 ; 
so that in all the laity have contributed within the last seven 
years £2,207,343, — a fact which deserves to be widely known 
to the credit of the Protestants of Ireland. The operation 
of these "Diocesan schemes" consists mainly in forming a 
"Stipend Fund" for future purposes. Several "unions" 
of parishes have been effected for economy, but very few if 
any have been suppressed. 



THE DISESTABLISHED CHURCH. 497 

Many and wide were the speculations as to how Disestab- 
lishment would affect the doctrine and rubrics of the Irish 
Protestant Church. Although legislatively united in 1800, 
and declared to be "one and indivisible," the English and 
Irish Churches were never, since 1640, identical in the nature 
and spirit of their Protestantism. The former was on the 
whole Lutheran or High Church ; the latter was on the 
whole Calvinist or Low Church. In England the Kestora- 
tion almost effaced the characteristics of Puritan Protestant- 
ism. In Ireland that event made little change, and Irish 
Protestantism visibly retains to this day the imprint it re- 
ceived at the Cromwellian period. Legislative regulation 
created a uniformity between the two bodies sure to be mod- 
ified on such an opportunity as that presented by Disestab- 
lishment. For the last four or five years the Church Synod 
in Dublin has been engaged in the critical and serious pur- 
pose of revision. To any one who could regard with levity 
the labors of earnest and conscientious men engaged in such 
a work, the debates, often angry and stormy, sometimes truly 
comical in their episodes, would afford great scope for sarcasm. 
An extreme party seemed plainly bent on "revising" the Book 
of Common Prayer into a blank, and reforming the reforma- 
tion in the most sweeping manner. The episcopal office 
and clerical character seemed to them remaining relics of 
antique Eomanism. The supernatural in sacramental sub- 
jects they appeared to regard as merely superstitious. Sev- 
eral times did a secession seem inevitable. More than once 
did Dr. Trench in mournful tone point out the logical ten- 
dency of some of the changes proposed. Nevertheless it may 
be said that the middle party has carried its way, and mod- 
erated everything. The three principal questions discussed 
have been (1) the damnatory clauses of the Athanasian 
Creed ; (2) the baptismal service (" seeing that this child is 
now regenerate") ; and (3) the Ordinal, — the words "Ke- 
ceive the Holy Ghost for the office and work of a priest in 
the Church of God." The last two were left untouched, 



498 NEW IRELAND. 

after much discussion. As to the first, it was in one year's 
Synod carried that the damnatory clauses should be al- 
together omitted, as forming no part of the articles of belief. 
Ultimately the Creed was left untouched in its place, but the 
mandatory rubric requiring it to be read thirteen times in 
the year in the public service was removed. 

The episcopal Protestant Church of Ireland has lost noth- 
ing, and has gained much, especially in its freedom of ac- ' 
tion, by Disestablishment. Yet what a revolution, what a 
change from the Old Ireland to the New, does this one event 
alone bring to our view ! There is no conviction deeper or 
stronger in the English mind to-day than was the conviction 
forty years ago — nay, twenty years ago — that England would 
spend her last shilling and fire her last gun in maintaining 
the State connection and ascendency of the Protestant 
Church in Ireland. What overthrow of the empire was not 
such a frightful event as Disestablishment supposed to in- 
volve ! It has come to pass, and, lo ! the empire stands ! 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

IRELAND AT WESTMINSTER. 

The Kerry election fulfilled in its effects the anticipa- 
tions of English and Irish public opinion. It was accepted 
on all hands as a decisive event. Every one realized that it 
marked an important turning-point in Irish politics, that an 
entirely new era Avas at hand. 

The time had now come for the Home Government Asso- 
ciation — which had always declared itself to be merely the 
precursor of a really authoritative national body — to sum- 
mon the country as it were into council, and let Ireland dis- 
cuss and formulate the national programme. Hitherto the 
members of that organization were only a party, pushing 
their propaganda so far no doubt with overwhelming success. 
But there were other parties in the country. There were 
the old Eepeal party, the Liberal party, the Land party, the 
Catholic Education party, — the latter supposed to include 
most of the bishops ; and above all there was the Fenian 
party, broken, disrupted, and weakened, but not destroyed. 
None of them had the mandate of the country authorizing it 
to lead the way. 

In the autumn of 1873 the Council of the Home Govern- 
ment Association decided to co-operate in calling a great 
National Conference to consider the question of Home Eule. 
There was hesitation and debate for some time as to whether 
it should be convened by an "open" requisition — that is, 
one expressing no opinion on the subject or scheme to be 
considered — or by one which would in itself be a National 
Declaration. I was among those who favored the former 

499 



500 NEW IRELAND. 

view ; but Mr. Butt, who was on the other side, prevailed. 
He argued with much force that no matter what pains might 
be taken to render the Conference an influential and repre- 
sentative assembly, the English press might still say its 
utterance was only the decision of some three or four hun- 
dred individuals ; whereas a National Requisition signed by 
ten thousand persons of position and influence, affirming the 
Home Rule scheme, would in itself be a great authority. 
In October, 1873, accordingly, a requisition was circulated 
through the post to members of corporations, town commis- 
sioners, and other popularly elected representatives, magis- 
trates, clergymen, members of Parliament, etc., in the fol- 
lowing terms : 

" We, the undersigned, feel bound to declare our conviction that it is 
necessary to the peace and prosperity of Ireland, and would be con- 
ducive to the strength and stability of the United Kingdom, that the 
right of domestic legislation on all Irish affairs should be restored to 
our country ; and that it is desirable that Irishmen should unite to 
obtain that restoration upon the following principles." 

The principles of the Home Government Association, as 
given in a previous chapter, were then set forth, and the 
Eequisition concluded in these words : 

"We hereby invite a Conference to be held, at such time and place 
as may be found generally most convenient, of all those favorable to 
the above principles, to consider the best and most expedient means of 
carrying them into practical effect." 

The desire being not to obtain so much a long list of un- 
known names as the signatures of representative persons, or 
men in whatsoever position known to command either social 
or popular influence, the document was not left at public 
places, or indiscriminately circulated. Nevertheless, in a few 
weeks it had received the signatures not of merely ten thou- 
sand such persons, as was hoped for, but twenty-five thou- 
sand. Every class and creed, every profession, every repre- 
sentative body, was represented in that vast array. As Mr. 



IRELAND AT WESTMINSTER. 501 

Butt anticipated, it was very generally felt that such a 
Declaration was in itself a national authorization. 

On Tuesday, the 18th of November, 1873, and on the 
three next succeeding days, the Conference assembled in the 
great circular hall of the Eotunda, — a place of meeting se- 
lected not merely because of its size, but for its historic as- 
sociations. There it was that the celebrated convention of 
the Irish volunteers, under the Earl of Charlemont, held 
their deliberations in 1783. For nearly a century that hall 
had been the scene of the most striking and important po- 
litical displays. There was not an orator or patriot whose 
name survives in the history of the past century whose voice 
had not echoed within those walls. Nearly nine hundred 
delegates or members, gathered from every county in the 
kingdom, attended on this occasion ; and the galleries thrown 
open to the public, capable of accommodating six hundred 
persons, were crowded throughout the four days' session with 
ladies and gentlemen, many of whom had come long dis- 
tances in order to be present. 

With one voice the presidency of this important assembly 
was conferred on Mr. William Shaw, M.P., a Protestant 
gentleman of high character, a banker and leading merchant 
in Cork city. There was much curiosity as to what the tone 
and temper of the proceedings would be. Some of the lead- 
ing Liberal organs in London told their readers all about it 
two days before the chair was taken. There would be "a, 
Donnybrook row in the first hour of the sitting." The Con- 
ference certainly was not what is called "a Quaker's meet- 
ing ; " there was free and active discussion ; every point 
under consideration was canvassed closely. But the British 
Parliament in its best days was never more orderly, with a > 
really important national subject under debate, from first to 
last. Throughout the four days no division was challenged 
on any resolution but one, and against that a solitary voice 
was raised. With scarcely an alteration, the principles and 
programme of the Home Government Association were af- 



502 NEW IRELAND. 

firmed by national authority, and, that organization there- 
upon being dissolved, a new one, "The Irish Home Rule 
League," was established to take charge of the national 
movement. By the early part of December this body was 
organized. The Christmas holidays were now close at 
hand ; it was necessary to postpone for a few weeks the com- 
mencement of active operations, but it was decided to open 
the new year with a vigorous registry campaign all over the 
kingdom. By the middle of January, 1874, a series of re- 
ports on the condition of the several constituencies were 
forthcoming. From these it was clear that by attention to 
the registries in the ensuing summer and autumn, seventy- 
two Home Eule members out of one hundred and three 
Irish representatives might certainly be returned at the next 
general election. That the session about to open in Feb- 
ruary would be the last of the existing Parliament, that 
there would be a dissolution in the autumn, was accepted 
as a certainty. The only fear which now troubled the 
League was that the elections might be taken in the early 
summer, before the next revision of the parliamentary voters' 
lists. In this case the opportunity would be half lost ; not 
more than thirty seats, it was thought, could be carried. A 
stunning surprise was about to burst upon us all ! 

On Saturday morning, the 24th of January, 1874, the 
announcement was flashed throughout the kingdom that 
Mr. Gladstone had "dissolved." Not a whisper of such a 
determination on his part had been heard even the previous 
day. It was only after midnight that a favored few learned 
the astonishing fact by telegraph. The coup was so sudden 
that it staggered every one, friend and foe. To us of the 
Home Rule League it brought something like dismay. Here 
we were, caught at utter disadvantage, — no registries com- 
pleted, no constituencies organized, no candidates selected. 
Yet never did men encounter so sudden and serious an 
emergency more resolutely than the council of the League 
faced this trial. They "stripped to the work," and may 



IRELAND AT WESTMINSTER. 503 

be said to have set en permanence from two o'clock on 
Sunday, the 25th of -January, till Saturday, the 14th of 
February. They issued an "Address to the People of Ire- 
land," telling them that under the circumstances of this 
surprise every constituency must only fight its own battle, 
and let a grand enthusiasm compensate for want of prepara- 
tion. It was a furious combat. One formidable difficulty 
soon embarrassed the Home Eulers, — a want of suitable can- 
didates. The League Council had set out with refusing to 
supply or "recommend" any, preferring to let each locality 
select for itself. This idea, however, had to be abandoned. 
From north, south, east, and west came the importunate 
appeal, " Send us a candidate." " Candidates ! candidates ! " 
was the cry. "Here is our county going adrift for want of 
a candidate !" "Is our borough to be lost in this way for 
want of a candidate ? Send us any one who is a Home 
Euler ! " Anything like choice as to ability had to be given 
up as hopeless, the only qualification required being honesty 
of adherence to Home Eule. Nothing could better ex- 
emplify the temper of the Irish constituencies — the inex- 
orable determination to grasp a candidate of some sort, or 
any sort, who would declare for Home Eule — than what oc- 
curred in Waterford County. That constituency was over- 
whelmingly Home Eule, yet in the utter want of candidates 
there was nothing for it but to allow the late members, Lord 
Charles Beresford, Conservative, and Sir John Esmonde, 
Liberal, to be re-elected unopposed. The people were in- 
dignant. An unknown London "carpet-bagger," whose 
name has escaped my memory, ran across one day from 
Paddington and issued bright-green placards announcing 
himself effusively as a candidate in favor of Home Eule. 
He was hailed with rapture. The League denounced his 
candidature, and issued an address beseeching the electors 
not to be fooled by so offensive and barefaced a trick. 
Neither Lord Charles Beresford nor Sir John Esmonde was 
a Home Euler, but they were both honorable men in public 



504 NEW IRELAND. : 

life. There was a friendly regard for Lord Charles as brother 
of the Marquis of Waterford. Sir John Esmonde was by 
marriage the representative of Henry Grattan's family, 
which counted for much with Irishmen. To reject either 
of these gentlemen for a Man in the Moon "Home Euler" 
from London Bridge would have been monstrous. Every 
exertion was accordingly used by the League leaders to ex- 
pose the transaction. However, the clever Cockney polled 
several hundred votes as a "Home Euler." 

It was a serious reflection how far men returned in such 
haste and at such hap-hazard as this would be found to sup- 
ply the elements requisite for the formation of a really influ- 
ential and effective parliamentary party. How many of them 
would be half-hearted men, Liberals who hoisted Home Eule 
to secure re-election ? How many of them would be extreme 
men, who would tire of a Fabian policy and soon cry out that 
moderation and constitutionalism had failed ? How many of 
them would exhibit a fatal complaisance lest they might be 
thought "extreme" ? How many would lack the intelli- 
gence or the manly courage to adopt a moderate course, lest 
it might be thought " unpopular " ? Would a party so re- 
turned exhibit unity, cohesion, strength, or would they 
prove to be "a heap of uncemented sand"? These were 
pressing anxieties in many a breast throughout that time. 

At length the desperate struggle was over ; the last return 
was made, and men, drawing breath, looked around to see 
how the day had gone. A great shout went up from Ireland. 
"Victory! Victory !" was the cry from end to end of the 
land. For the first time, under the shield of the ballot, a 
national representation freely elected by the people had been 
returned ; and for the first time since the overthrow of the 
Irish Parliament in 1800 a clear and strong majority of the 
national representation were arrayed in solemn league and 
covenant to restore it. None were more astonished than the 
Home Eule leaders at the extent of their success. Under 
the disadvantages of "the Gladstone surprise," they had 



IRELAND AT WESTMINSTER. 505 

hoped to return between thirty and forty men. They had 
carried about sixty seats.* In the previous Parliament there 
sat for Irish constituencies fifty-five Liberals, thirty-eight 
Conservatives, and ten Home Rulers. The new elections re- 
turned twelve Liberals, thirty-one Conservatives, and sixty 
Home Rulers. Ulster sent two Home Rulers and five Lib- 
erals for seats previously held by Conservatives. The two 
Ulster Home Rulers were returned by Cavan County. The 
prosperous capital of Northern Protestantism, Belfast, fur- 
nished one of these gentlemen, Mr. Joseph Gillis Biggar, late 
chairman of the Belfast Water Commissioners. The other, 
Mr. Charles Joseph Fay, belonged to an old and influential 
Catholic family in the county. The successful Liberals in 
the same province were Mr. Sharman Crawford, returned for 
the county Down, — son of that Mr. "William Sharman Craw- 
ford, M.P., referred to in a previous chapter as the veteran 
leader of the Protestant Tenant-Right party ; Mr. Taylor 
for Coleraine ; Mr. Dickson, who came in for historic Dun- 
gannon, — both of these gentlemen being large manufacturers 
in the North; Mr. Hugh Law, Q.C., and Mr. Richard 
Smyth, for Derry County. Mr. Law held an eminent 
position at the bar, and was Solicitor-General for Ireland. 
Mr. Smyth was a Presbyterian clergyman, had been Moder- 
ator of the General Assembly a few years previously, and 
was just then Professor of Oriental Languages in the Pres- 
byterian College of Derry. Of the Irish Home Rulers, 
eleven were Protestants, and forty-eight Catholics ; of the 
Liberals, nine were Protestants, three Catholics ; all the Con- 
servatives were Protestants. It may be doubted that any 

* They suffered but two defeats. In Monaghan County Mr. John 
Madden of Hilton Park, Conservative Home Ruler, failed to obtain 
election ; and in Tralee borough The O'Donoghue, as an anti-Home 
Rule Liberal, defeated Mr. Daly, Mayor of Cork, the Home Rule can- 
didate, by three votes. I believe the majority of votes actually given 
was against The O'Donoghue ; but through informality in marking 
some of the ballot papers he was "counted in" by three votes. 
22 



506 NEW IRELAND. 

constituency in Ireland made a greater sacrifice in demon- 
stration of its Home Eule convictions than the town of 
Drogheda. Its representation was sought by Mr. Benjamin 
Whitworth, a Protestant Liberal gentleman. He was a 
leading merchant in Manchester, but was connected with 
Drogheda by family, by birth, and by the ties of numerous 
benefits conferred on the town as an employer and a citizen. 
Mr. Whitworth would be strongly in favor of Home Eule if 
he were sure it did not involve separation. He feared it did, 
and so he would not declare for the one question now su- 
preme in the popular estimation. The disappointment, the 
regret, of the Drogheda people was something astonishing. 
There was not a man in the universe they would rather elect 
"if he would but say the word." Had Mr. Whitworth been 
like too many politicians, he might easily have managed the 
difficulty by a slippery or ambiguous phrase ; but he was too 
honest for that. The constituency on their part were too 
regardful of duty and principle to give way. A deputation 
went up to the League for a " candidate," and roundly swore 
they would not leave Dublin without one. With some diffi- 
culty they found a gentleman who consented to stand, and 
they placed him at the head of the poll. 

I think I may say the next most striking exemplification 
of the intensity of the popular feeling was displayed in my i 
own election by the county of Louth, for which I was re- 1 
turned by a majority of two to one over the Eight Hon. 1 
Chichester Fortescue, now Lord Carlingford. Mr. Fortescue ] 
was one of the leaders and chiefs of the Liberal party. He 
was a man of recognized ability, and filled a prominent 
place not only in Irish but imperial politics. He was a Cab- 
inet minister in the Gladstone administration at the time of 
this contest, and, as Chief Secretary for Ireland, virtually 
governed the country. For no less than twenty-seven years 
consecutively he had represented Louth. He was brother of 
Lord Clermont, one of the most extensive land-owners, one 
of the best and the kindliest, in the county. Personally no 



IRELAND AT WESTMINSTER. 507 

man had a higher position or stronger claims. But he had 
passed the severest Coercion Bill ever imposed upon Ireland, 
and was of course opposed to Home Rule. The Louth con- 
test was naturally considered one of the most important in 
the whole campaign. Its result, the defeat of such a man 
as Mr. Fortescue, created a profound sensation. 

While Home Rule was placed first and beyond all public 
measures or subjects, there were three others, which went to 
make up what may be called the national platform at this 
election : Amendment of the Gladstone Land Act ; Denomi- 
national Education ; and an Amnesty for the Political Pris- 
oners. These three questions commanded the individual 
support of the Home Rule members in nearly every case. 

It was singular to note how largely Irish Protestantism 
had on this occasion, as so often before, furnished leaders to 
the national movement. The Home Rule Chief, par excel- 
lence, was Isaac Butt, and beside him there were Sir John 
Martin, Mitchell-Henry, William Shaw, and Sir John Gray, 
— all Protestants. Equally remarkable was the fact that 
the most Catholic, or, as it would be said, "Ultramontane," 
constituencies elected Protestant Home Rulers. Those who 
believe that Irish Catholics import religious exclusiveness 
into politics, or doubt that Protestant lord and Catholic 
peasant might mingle in community of feeling as Irishmen, 
should see Lord Francis Conyngham in the midst of the 
I "frieze coats" of Clare, the object of loyal confidence, 
• hearty affection, and personal devotion. 

The dissolution of 1874 was a disastrous coup for the great 
leader of English Liberalism. It resulted in the overthrow 
i of his party. The new Parliament opened with a Conserva- 
tive ministry not only in office but in power. Mr. Disraeli 
found himself at the head of three hundred and sixty de- 
voted followers ; while not more than about two hundred 
and forty stood beneath the banner of the late Premier. As 
to the remaining sixty, a state of things previously unknown 
was about to present itself. Immediately on the conclusion 



508 NEW IRELAND. 

of the elections, the Irish Home Rule members assembled 
in the council-chamber of the City Hall, Dublin, and after 
deliberation earnest and prolonged adopted resolutions con- 
stituting themselves " a separate and distinct party in the 
House of Commons." In truth it was upon this under- 
standing, express or implied, they were one and all returned. 
They forthwith proceeded to make the requisite arrange- 
ments to such an end. Nine of their body were elected to 
act as an executive council. Secretaries and "whips" were 
duly appointed. Motions and measures were agreed upon 
for introduction. Thus constituted, marshaled, and organ- 
ized, the Irish Home Rulers took their seats in the imperial 
Parliament. 

Serious and difficult was the work those men had entered 
on. It had been no light and easy task to bring the Irish 
millions anew to give their confidence to constitutional en- 
deavors. The resorts of physical force they did not indeed 
believe in, else the Fenian enterprise had been more formid- 
able ; but not a great deal more brightly had they at first 
regarded the prospects of parliamentary action. Behind 
that Home Rule party at Westminster stood those millions, 
hoping, doubting, fearing; eagerly and narrowly watching 
every move ; ready to reciprocate conciliation, but danger- 
ously quick to resent hostility. The bulk of the nation was 
fairly willing to try out a reasonably patient, persevering 
policy, but there was a section who hoped nothing from Par- 
liament, and who would rejoice to find the English mem- 
bers voting down everything with an undiscriminating 
"No!" The Home Rule leaders knew the nature of the 
elements they had to deal with, and were fully aware that 
events might throw the game into the hands of the more 
extreme and impatient section of their people. They de- 
cided to offer a bridge to the opposing forces of Irish demand 
and English refusal. Apart from the question of Home 
Rule, which they knew would require much time, they re- 
solved to lay before the House of Commons several schemes 



IRELAND AT WESTMINSTER. 509 

of practical legislation, the merits of which could hardly be 
contested, and the success of which might fairly be expected. 
The concessions of these would, on the one hand, lead the 
English people gradually to look into the nature of Irish 
claims, and, on the other hand, lead the Irish people to place 
more confidence in constitutional effort. It was probably 
the best and wisest policy such a party could devise. " You 
will gain nothing by it," said some among them; "you 
will accomplish nothing by this moderation. You will be 
blindly voted down all the same. It is a policy of combat 
you should set yourselves to pursue." "We shall try that if 
we must, but not if we can avoid it," answered the Home 
Eule chiefs. 

Amid such circumstances, beset by such difficulties, in- 
spired by such hopes, facing so grave a problem, the Irish 
Home Eule party pushed forward from 1874 to 1877, the 
exponents of a new policy, the representatives of a New Ire- 
land at Westminster. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

LOSS AND GAIN. 

In that well-known and once seditious ballad " The Wear- 
ing of the Green/' an anxious query is pressed as to how it 
fares with Ireland : 

" And how does she stand 1 " 

So may we, ere we close the record and quit our theme, ask, 
How stands Ireland in 1877 ? In Avhat is she most changed ? 
What is the loss or gain between the old time and the new ? 

Although, contrasted with the development of nations in 
the long enjoyment of healthy life, the progress of Ireland — 
material and intellectual, social, industrial, educational, and 
political — may be found sadly slow, and in some respects 
cruelly retarded, yet, compared with her own dismal historic 
standards, she has made great strides within the present gen- 
eration. The really important fact is, that with the little 
she has gained she has done more, and bids fair to accom- 
plish relatively greater things, than any nation of them all. 

Serious and heavy are the material losses to be weighed in 
taking a balance and estimating gains upon this period. The 
country that has lost in thirty years one-third of its popula- 
tion — a million by famine, and two millions by despairing 
flight — must have received a well-nigh mortal wound. No 
glozing fallacies, no heartless theories, have availed to stamp 
upon the Irish Famine and Exodus any character less dark 
than that of utter calamity. Yet Ireland has survived the 
blow. Economically and industrially its weakening effects 
will long be visible ; but the vitality of the nation has tri- 

510 



LOSS AND GATN. 511 

umphantly asserted itself. Despite all disaster and difficulty, 
Ireland is marching on. 

It is not easy to arrive at accurate conclusions as to the 
extent of Ireland's material progress between 1845 and 1875. 
The necessary records were not in existence, or were very 
defective, thirty years ago ; and some of the tests and com- 
parisons frequently applied are most fallacious. That pro- 
gress depends almost entirely on agriculture, manufacturing 
industry being still but little known. For some years past 
many signs attest that the agricultural classes in Ireland 
have made considerable advance, and a decided increase in 
the national wealth has been thus acquired. But hardly any 
one seems to notice the important fact that this has risen less 
from extension of earning power, or of productive area, than 
from a rise in the price of certain agricultural products. A 
considerable increase in the price of coal a few years ago 
brought extravagantly "good times" to the colliers and 
mine-owners while it lasted, though the out-put was no 
greater than before. If nothing occur to send back the prices 
of beef and mutton, milk and butter, eggs and poultry, Ire- 
land will have established a substantial gain in material 
prosperity. But this present glow of "good prices" is too 
commonly confounded with the solid increase of wealth that 
results from increased productiveness. It is in great part per- 
ilously adventitious. There are, however, numerous indica- 
tions that the respite from hardship, the comparative com- 
fort, which the farming classes have thus experienced has 
been turned by them to great account. These few years of 
better circumstances, together with the influence of certain 
other changes, educational and political, in the country, have 
had a startling effect on the agricultural population. Never 
again, without such struggle as may astonish the kingdom, 
will they submit to the serfdom and destitution of old 
times. 

The educational progress and attainments of Ireland within 
the past thirty years will bear no comparison with what has 



512 NEW IRELAND. 

been accomplished in Belgium, America, Germany, France, 
Scotland, England, or Switzerland. But the effect and 
influence on Ireland of the measure of educational gain 
achieved within that period has been incalculable. It has, 
as I have already said, revolutionized the country. The 
educational facilities and opportunities within the reach of 
the Irish people are still — especially as regards intermediate 
and university education — "miserably bad, scandalously 
bad." The Government holds to its determination to force 
on the Irish millions a scheme admittedly out of accord with 
their conscientious convictions ; and thus the precious aid 
which popular sympathy and national enthusiasm would 
bring is utterly lost to our primary-school system. As to 
university and intermediate education in Ireland, the condi- 
tion of affairs is a reproach to the nineteenth century. It is 
truly lamentable that in such a matter as education the 
policy of force majeure should still be pursued toward a 
people to whom such a huge arrear of educational restitu- 
tion is due. This is hardly the way to make a requital to 
Ireland for a century of laws that hunted down the school- 
master and put a price upon his head. 

One of the best and brightest changes visible in Ireland is 
the almost total disappearance of sectarian animosities, and 
the kindly mingling of creeds and classes in the duties of 
every-day life. Even still, no doubt, in one particular corner 
of the island, there linger traces of the old and evil spirit 
beneath whose accursed influence man spilled the blood o: 
his fellow-man in the outraged name of Eeligion. But even 
in Ulster these insensate feuds are steadily giving way. Such 
passions do not suddenly subside. Long after better and j 
nobler feelings have gained the mastery, the fitful spasms of 
expiring fanaticism will occasionally present their ghastly 
spectacle ; but the end is none the less inevitably at hand. 
In Derry city the annual displays that formerly involved 
periodical wreck and bloodshed have for the past five or 
six years, with scarcely an exception, been celebrated amidst 



i 
r 

: 






LOSS AND GAIN. . 513 

declarations and demonstrations of mutual tolerance and 
good feeling. In Belfast and one or two of the neighboring 
towns no such happy result has as yet been safely assured ; 
but in these places the local leaders on each side have many 
difficulties to contend with. Every party and faction has 
its camp-followers and irregulars, who, amenable to no dis- 
cipline, often stain by their excesses, and compromise by 
their assaults, the cause which they pretend to serve. Every 
season it becomes more and more plain that Ulster Orange- 
men and Ulster Catholics are equally desirous of terminating 
a state of things which was the scandal of Ireland and the 
reproach of Christianity. 

Elsewhere, throughout the remaining provinces of the 
kingdom, concord, tolerance, and kindly feeling largely 
prevail. The coincidence whereby the lines of religious 
demarcation correspond, as a general rule, with the political 
in Ireland — Protestant being generally synonymous with 
Conservative, and Catholic with Liberal — is very unfortu- 
nate ; for often a conflict seems to be sectarian when, in fact, 
it is only political. On the whole, the painfully sharp dis- 
tinctions and classifications of old times have softened down ; 
and the different social classes and religious denominations 
no longer resemble so many warring tribes encamped upon 
the land. 

It is, however, in the domain of politics that the most 
serious changes are to be noted in Ireland. The gravity 
and importance of those changes will be recognized only 
when they are studied in the twofold aspect of their effect 
on Ireland herself, and their effect on England. 

There never was a period until now, since the passing of 
the Union, in which the Irish representation was not amen- 
able to the influences, and more or less subject to the author- 
ity, of the governing parties, Liberal or Conservative, — the 
ministerial or ex-ministerial chiefs, — in London. Had it 
been otherwise, many a time it might have been a serious 
peril for England to have had a hundred and five Irishmen 
22* 



514 NEW IRELAND. 

with tlieir hands on the lever of imperial affairs at West- 
minster. As it was, they were merely so many imperial 
Whigs and Tories, whose action in the main was directed 
and controlled by the Melbournes or Lyndhursts, Russells 
or Peels, Stanleys or Aberdeens, of the hour. If the con- 
tinuance or discontinuance of such a system now lay wholly 
or mainly in the choice of the representatives themselves, 
its abandonment during a year or two might be a matter of 
little moment, as a merely temporary variation. But a 
change, a radical change, has been brought about under 
very critical circumstances. 

It is only within the past thirty or forty years that in 
Ireland the bulk of the people, long kept outside the pale of 
the constitution, may be said to have actively entered public 
life. That is to say, the political influence of Ireland, such 
as it was, even so recently as thirty years ago, was exercised 
in their name and on their behalf, not by the people them- 
selves. Ten years ago the franchise was placed practically 
within their reach, yet its use was then, to them, too full 
of deadly peril to make the possession a boon. Five years 
ago, however, came a measure which, as if by the flash of a 
magician's wand, has changed the whole aspect of Irish 
politics. The ballot has brought, for the first time, the in- 
fluence and the will of the Irish people directly to bear on 
the assembly at Westminster. With a marvelous rapidity 
they have realized the great agencies now within their con- 
trol. With rather sudden energy they have cast aside the 
tutelage of former days. The political power of Ireland 
has passed for aye from the custody of leaders, managers, 
and proxy-holders, in the sense in which they held it and 
used it of old. The statesmen who have to deal with the 
Ireland of to-day will find that they are face to face with 
new elements, new forms, and forces, social, economic, and 
political. 

It becomes of the first importance to appreciate the temper 
and tendency, the bent and purpose, of those millions whom 



LOSS AND GAIN. 515 

the School, the Newspaper, the Franchise, and the Ballot 
have made masters of the situation in Ireland. Equally- 
necessary is it to take into view the one hundred and seventy 
thousand Irish voters in the cities and towns of Britain, daily 
preparing themselves for more complete and resolute co- 
operation with the efforts of their countrymen at home. As 
long as the working classes of England were unenfranchised, 
these vast bodies of Celtic material accumulated between the 
Tay and the Thames were of little account. But as every 
day the influence of those classes increased — as the franchise 
is extended, and school board, poor-law, municipal, and par- 
liamentary elections admit the masses of the people to the 
exercise of public power — the men whom Irish landlordism 
swept in thousands from their native valleys in the western 
island will as a consequence be heard from. -They are placed 
in all the great centers of public opinion and political activ- 
ity ; and some of the most momentous issues of the near 
future will be largely determined, one way or another, by 
their aid. Not in a year, nor in two years, will they be able 
to constitute or -organize themselves, and exhibit perfect dis- 
cipline and trained intelligence ; but all this is plainly ahead, 
— is merely a matter of time. No graver anxiety can weigh 
the mind of a patriotic Irishman contemplating these things 
than that which surrounds the question as to how, and in 
what temper, the Irish people at home and in England may 
use the powers within their reach. Here and there, we may 
be sure, some errors of impulse, unreason, or passion will 
occasionally be seen ; and that impatience of result so char- 
acteristic of our race — greatly but not wholly reformed of 
late — will betimes break forth. Above all, it must be borne 
in mind that, like the party of Kossuth sullenly watching 
the endeavors of Francis Deak ten years ago in Hungary, 
there are men in Ireland, in America, and in England — few, 
but not less determined, some of them more desperate than 
ever — who hope in the break-down of public effort to have 
another chance for the resorts of violence. But there are 



516 NEW IRELAND. 

abundant proofs that the great body of the Irish people, in 
sober but resolute purpose, are determined to work out their 
national policy by the agencies of public opinion and the 
weapons of political power. And assuredly no happier cir- 
cumstance has cheered the outlook of Irish politics in our 
century than the daily increasing exchange of sympathies, 
and the more loudly avowed sentiments of reconciliation 
and friendship, between the peoples of Ireland and of Great 
Britain. 

What the vail of the future may hide is not given to man 
to know. Enough for us that in skies long darkened and 
torn by cloud and storm thrice-blessed signs of peace and 
hope appear. The future is with God. 



COMPLETE TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 



Looking Back 7 

The Scenes of Early Life revisited. . . 7 

Beara and the OSullivans 9 

The rural Irishman— Truth and Cari- 
cature 9 

The unpictured Fishermen of Munster 

and Connaught 10 



An Irish Pilot " boxingthe Compass " 10 

" Mass on the Ocean " 11 

Torry Island aud its Fisherman King. 12 

"Virtue on Torry Island 13 

" How many gods are there, my good 

boy?" 13 

Famine and the Fishermen 14 



CHAPTER II. 



" The Schoolmaster Abroad." 15 

The Parochial Letter- writer 15 

Curious Specimens of Epistolary Cor- 
respondence 16-17 

The little Courtesies of Life not Ser- 
vility 17 



The Penal Laws against Catholic Edu- 
cation 18 

The Irish National School System.. 20-29 

Vere Foster 23 

School" No. 2" 25 



CHAPTER III. 



O'CONNELL AND KePEAL 30 

" The Liberator " one of the Master 
Characters in History 30 

His Unpopularity with Irish Protes- 
tants. . . .' , 31 

The old Tory Gentleman's "Thanks 
be to God 1 " 32 

Glances at "Repeal" and "Emanci- 
pation " 33-37 

Views and Reviews of O'Connell's 
Character 38 

The "Discoverers" and "Priest- 
hunters " 38 



O'Connell's Foes and Friends 40 

O'Gorman Mahon 40 

The Irish Priest in Politics 41-44 

O'Connell's Rash Promise 44 

The call for a Monster Meeting, and 

O'Connell's Arrest 45 

An Historic Trial 45 

1846 a Transition Period in Irish Pol- 
itics 46 

The " Young Ireland Party " 47 

Gannt Famine, and the Last Hours of 

the Great Tribune 48 

517 



518 



COMPLETE TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IV. 



The Kibbon Confederacy 49 

The Origin of Irish Secret Societies, 

and the object of Ribbonism 49 

Some of the " Grips and Passwords " 

of Ribbonism 57 

Sir John Gray and the Mob 58 

Blackmailing and Bloody Work 59 



Lord Lorton and his Protestant Ten- 
ants 60 

A Lordly Scoundrel 62 

Hanged "for BreakiDg the Hasp of a 
door " 63 

Madden, the Tithe Proctor, and his 
Awful Fate 63 

The Decline of Ribbonism 64 



CHAPTER V. 



Father Mathew 66 

Early Years of the "Apostle of Tem- 
perance " 66 

Not the Originator of the Temperance 

Movement 67 

" Bill Martin " and Father Mathew. . 69 

A Great Work begins in Cork 70 

The secret of Father Mathew's Succes? 72 
"Orange and Green" greeting the 

famous Priest 73 



Father Mathew in England 73 

The Temperance Crusade at its top- 
most height in 1845 75 

Shadows 77 

Father Mathew and the Famine 78 

The Last Days of a bright and beau- 
tiful Life 78 

A Sad Reaction 79 



CHAPTER VI. 



" The Black Forty-seven " 81 

A Cause of bitter Recrimination 81 

Famine casts its shadows over the 

"Green Isle" 82 

How " a Million of Lives might have 

been saved " 86 



The " Public Soup Kitchens " 86 

The Workhouses 86 

The Irish Landlords and the Famine.. 88 

Hunger and Heroism 91 

American Generosity 92 

Some Results of the Irish Famine. ... 93 



CHAPTER VTJ. 



" Young Ireland " 95 

What it was 95 

The Irish Representative of Forty 

Years ago 96 

An Evening Stroll that originated The 

Nation, 97 

"Young Ireland " and Religious Tol- 
erance 98 

Glances at the Leaders of the Party. . 100 



Eva Mary Kelly— a Union of Poetry 

and Romance 101 

" Mary's " Sad Fate 103 

" Speranza " and her Bright Career. . 103 
Mr. Duffy's Interview with "John 

Fanshaw Ellis" 106 

"lam the Culprit, if Crime It be "... . 107 

William Smith O'Brien 107 

Differences between the " Young " 
and the " Old " Irelanders 110 



CHAPTER VIII. 



"Forty-eight" 112 

The year of Revolutions 112 

What John Mitchel declared 114 

His Opponents 114 



Sketch of John Mitchel 

Smith O'Brien's Fight against the 

" Reds " 

The Three Parties 



115 



118 
118 



COMPLETE TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



519 



Great Influence of the Priests 119 

Arrest of O'Brien, Meagher, and Mit- 

chel 119 

The Scene at Mitchel's Trial 120 



Suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act 123 

An Historic Incident 123 

The Collapse ■ 124 

The Fate of the Leaders 125 



CHAPTER IX. 



After-Scenes 126 

A Bullet that struck the future Fenian 

Chief 126 

Hunted over Moor and Mountain 126 

Escape of Stephens and Doheny 129 

" Hue-and-Cry " descriptions of Insur- 
gents 129 

Fidelity that gold could not corrupt. . 130 
Thomas Francis Meagher, Leyue, and 

O'Donohue 130 

Dillon aud P. J. Smyth 132 



" All right ; I'm Smyth " 133 

" His Reverence " and the two lovers. 133 
" His Reverence " utters a thundering 

Oath, and again becomes Dillon.. 133 
Richard O'Gorman, father and son.. . 134 

John O'Mahony ; 134 

The State Trials for High Treason .... 135 
A " Secret and Confidential " Letter to 

General Napier 136 

To the Convict Settlements of Aus- 
tralia 139 



CHAPTER X. 



The Crimson Stain 140 

Three Gibbets in 1848 140 

A Heart-rending Scene 142 

Tipperary in 1848 143 



"Cut" Quinlan and his brother 

Michael 147 

Father Mullaly and " Cut " 148 

The " Philosophy " of Landlord shoot- 
ing 152 



CHAPTER XI. 



" LoCHABER NO MORE " 157 

The Irish Landlords and Evictions .. . 157 
" Seven hundred human beings home- 
less in one day " 161 

House-leveling, Ruin, and Desolation. 163 



The Emigrant's Sad Farewell 165 

Scenes of Death on Land and Ocean. . 167 
The Irish Exodus stands alone in His- 
tory , 169 



CHAPTER XII. 



The Encumbered Estates Act 173 

" The last of his Name in Mitchels- 

town" 173 

Mitchelstown Castle and its beautiful 

Surroundings 174 

The blow that fell on Lord Kingston. 176 
The Difficulties of Irish Landlords.. . . 179 



A Scheme of English Avarice 180 

Passage of the Bill through Parlia- 
ment 181 

The Story of Lord Gort 183 

Facts and Figures 187 

The Old Masters and the New 189 



CHAPTER XIII. 



The Tenant League 191 

A Moral Revolt 191 

Ulster and its Privileges 191 

The Philosophy of Rural Stagnation.. 193 
Historic glances at the Land Laws . . . 194 
Catholic and Presbyterian meet to- 
gether 196 



The " Irish Liberal " of a quarter of a 

century ago 201 

Bigoted England and the Pope 203 

The " Ecclesiastical Titles Bill " 204 

The General Election of 1852 206 



520 



COMPLETE TABLE OF CONTENTS 



CHAPTER XIV. 



"The Brass Band" 208 

John Sadleir and his Early Career 208 

Judge Keogh as simple " Mr. William 

Keogh" 210 

" The Pope's Brass Band " and " The 

Irish Brigade " 211 

The Catholic Meeting at the Ro- 

tunda 211 

Keogh's Eulogium on Archbishop 

MacHale, and some other things. 213 



MacCarthy Downing and "So-help- 

me-God " Keogh 214 

Sadleir's Newspaper Scheme 216 

Cardinal Cullen 217 

" Is Paul in bed ? " 219 

The New Election 220 

Meeting of the forty Irish M.P.'s in 

Dublin 221 

The Sale of " the Irish Brigade " 222 



CHAPTER XV. 



The Suicide Banker 224 

John Sadleir and his Daring Schemes. 224 

The Weekly Telegraph holds forth 224 

Thunder in the Political Sky 225 

"The Lion of the Fold of Judah" 

speaks 225 

Religion and Politics 226 

The Friction of Opinions 227 

Opposition to Dr. Cullen 229 

A Memorial to Rome 230 



The Tide that bore Mr. Sadleir to the 

Port of Ruin 232 

Charles Gavan Duffy bids Farewell to 

Ireland 234 

Gloom 235 

The Irish Forger of Hyde Park 235 

The last Awful Steps to Suicide 238 

Sad Scenes about the Doors of Irish 

Banks 239 

The Suicide's Sad Letter 239 

A Dead Scoundrel and a Living Knave 240 



CHAPTER XVI. 



The Arbuthnot Abduction 241 

"A Landlord shot, as sure as we live" 241 
Rathronan House and its Fair Inmates 242 

A Foolish Lover, and what he did 243 

The Struggles of a Noble Girl 248 



Exciting Cbase after a Ruffian 249 

The Trial of John Carden 251 

Pen-picture of a Bold and Reckless 
Landlord and Lunatic Lover 255 



CHAPTER XVII. 



The Phoznix Conspiracy 258 

Days of Peace and Sad Silence 258 

A Split that was never closed 259 

Smith O'Brien liberated 262 



O'Donovan Rosea and the Mysterious 

" Stranger " 263 

The Rise of Fenianism 264 

The Trial of Daniel O'Sullivan 267 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



Papal Ireland 270 

The Catholics of Catholics 270 

"Helpl Help! the Austrians are 

upon us 1 " 271 

Marshal MacMahon 272 

The Schemes of Cavour and Napoleon 

III 275 



Pio Nono's Friends in Ireland 276 

Garibaldi & Co 280 

The " Battalion of St. Patrick " 282 

English Journalistic Blackguardism.. 284 

" Home, Sweet Home " 284 

A Liberal, Warm-hearted, Religious 

race 286 



COMPLETE TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



521 



CHAPTER XIX. 



The Fate op Glenveigh 287 

Glances at old Donegal 287 

Mr. Adair as a New Landlord 289 



A Scene in 1858 293 ! Across two Oceans 



The Murdered Manager 294 

Mr. Adair as a rural Nero in 1861 295 

Woeful Eviction Scenes 298 



303 



CHAPTER XX. 



The Fenian Movement 305 

A New State of Things 305 

James Stephens Cri t icised 306 

Bird's-Eye View of the Home Fenian 

Leaders 307 

Plan of the Movement 310 

John O'Mahony and the Origin of the 

Word " Fenian " 310 

Irish Journals and the Fenian Leaders. 311 
Why the Catholic Church opposes 

Oath-bound Societies 312 



The " Hue and Cry Black List " 313 

The " Art " of Assassination 314 

Quotations from a " Fire-Eater." 315 

The London Times Aiding Irish Revo- 
lution 1 316 

A Singular Petition that was never 

Answered 318 

The Irish in the American Civil War.. . 321 
An Exciting and Imposing Funeral. . . 322 



CHAPTER XXI. 



A Troubled Time 325 

Irish Leaders again 326 

The Irish People 327 

John Martin and the Fenians 328 

A Stormy Meeting 329 



A New Meeting and how it Worked.. 331 
Close of the American Conflict and 

the Activity of Fenianism 335 

A Letter that did not reach its Des- 
tination 336 



CHAPTER XXII. 



The Richmond Escape 338 

The Irish People Suppressed 338 

A Letter of the Fenian Chief read in 

Dublin Castle 339 

Dash on the Fenians 340 

"What is this?" 342 

All Ireland Excited 344 



Arrest of Stephens & Co 346 

Bold Words followed by a Bolder Es- 
cape 350 

Richmond Jail— its Guards and In- 
mates 351 

The Bird that Flew, and where it 
Flew 354 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



Insurrection ! ! 355 

The Leaders at the Bar 355 

O'Donovan Rosea reading for " Eight 

Hours and a half " 356 

Dissension and Revolt split up Fen- 
ianism 357 



Stephens as a Revolutionist 359 

The "Rising" in Ireland 360 

The Jacknell and her Strange Freight. 368 
A Citizen of the United States Sen- 
tenced to fifteen years Penal Ser- 
vitude 371 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



The Scaffold and the Cell 373 

A Wild and Stupid Explosion 373 

The New Leader of Fenian Affairs in 

Ireland 374 

A Desperate Resolve 375 

The Anger and Panic of Manchester.. 377 



The Trial of Allen, Larkin, O'Brien, 

and others 378 

Scenes at the Scaffold 381 

The Great Heart of Ireland Moved... 383 
John Bullism in the " Green Isle". ... 384 



522 COMPLETE TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXV. 



' Delend a est Carthago " 392 

The " Religion " of Taxes 392 

The Irish Protestant Minister 394 

The Great Problems of Irish Politics. 395 

Dillon, Daunt, and Gray 398 

Orangeman and Fenian to the Front 1 399 



John Bright's Letter 401 

Parliamentary Agitation 402 

John Bright in Ireland 404 

English Parliamentary Confusion 407 

The odious " Catholic Oaths " 407 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



Disestablishment 411 

The thickness of some English Skulls. 411 

The ranting of Mr. Roebuck 412 

" What can we do for Ireland ? " 413 



Gladstone crossing the Rubicon 414 

The Antics of the Ulster Orangemen.. 416 
The Struggle over an Expiring Relig- 
ious Sham 418 



CHAPTER XXVII. 



Longford 429 

Changes in the Irish Protestant Mind. 429 



A Prisoner as an elected M.P. for Tip- 
perary 432 

The Martin-Nugent exciting Contest. . 434 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 



" Home Rule " 444 

A Strange Assemblage in Dublin. . . . 444 

" What can we do for Ireland ? " 446 

Isaac Butt 448 

The Birth of the Home Rule Move- 
ment 450 



Its Object and Principles 451 

Mitchell Henry 455 

P. J. Smyth 455 

The Struggle at the Polls 456 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



The Kerry Election 460 

Trinity College in Irish History 460 

Professor Galbraith, T.C.D 460 

In Kerry 461 



John Francis Maguire . 462 

Election Scenes to be witnessed no 
more 464 



CHAPTER XXX. 



Balltcohet 475 

An Alarming Telegram 475 

A Bit of Family History 476 

"Billy" Scully 477 



A Landlord and his Loaded Revolver. 479 
A Brutal Attack, and what came of it. 481 
Poor Young Gorman and his Mother. 482 
"These things must no longer be ! ".. 484 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

The Disestablished Church 489 | A Church with an Enormous Revenue. 493 

The Changes of Time in Ireland 490 I Reforming the Reformation 497 



COMPLETE TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER XXXII. 



523 



Ireland at Westminster 499 

Parties in Ireland 499 

The Circular of 1873 500 

Another Meeting at the Rotunda 501 

The Home Rulers at Work 502 



A Clever Cockney 504 

" Victory 1 " " Victory I " 505 

The Coup of 1874 507 

The Home Rule Party's Work for 
Three Years 508 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



Loss and Gain 510 

How Stands Ireland in 1877 ? 510 

Education and Fanaticism— Glances at 
Each 511 



Great Political Changes 513 

Unsettled Problems and the Future. . 514 






vv 


















V 

































^. * 









fiR 






'■X \ 



-v. 

'/ ^ Y 



^ "^ 













^ 









%^' 















^^ 



^ 









= - ^ 



<■* ' o » x "* A 






, 









% 






•v 



*. 






C 

^ 

f •? 




_ f 














, , >,. * N > ^ 






' ,'\ <* y » «. "* »'\ 






, -J 

A 

■ 

0> ^> 
















